Give In To Love Or Live In Fear
by dancexinxthexflames
Summary: MimiRoger, MaureenJoanne start, MaureenMark eventually, AngelCollins. My version of how Mimi and Roger and the others first met, and a little more about their pasts. The typical love story with my added twist, you wouldn't want to miss it.
1. No Day But Today

Disclaimer: I am NOT Jonathan Larson (God bless his soul). And though I would want to, I do not own RENT or any of the original characters. I only own this plot and the dignity I get from writing it. :)

PS: The life support members in this chappie are dedicated to intermediate c. :) I love you inter c.

(Narrator's POV)

_Cat Scratch Club: December 10, 1990, 11 am, Eastern Standard Time_

"You're hired," the manager said, the moment Mimi stepped in.

"Wha-?"

She obviously hadn't expected to be appointed a job so soon. The manager had barely even spoken three words to her. Yet there he was, comfortably seated behind his polished wooden desk, his face twisted in a very pleased look.

"Sir, you haven't even seen my resume yet," Mimi said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

She handed him her form but he pushed it away, shaking his head.

"There's no need for that," he mused, leaning forward in his chair.

"But sir…"

"Stand up again, will you sweetie?" he asked politely, gesturing her to get up.

Though bemused at his request, Mimi did as asked. There she was, standing awkwardly in front of the business man in an elegant light purple spaghetti top with a matching short frilly black skirt and boots to finish off. He eyed the young Latina up and down, nodding and stroking his miniscule beard as he surveyed her curvaceous body.

"What did you say was your name again?" he asked, eyes plastered to Mimi's slender brown legs.

"Mimi," she answered, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable with his stare. "Mimi Marquez."

"Mimi, Mimi," the manager mumbled, nodding his head in approval.

"So…?" Mimi prodded on, hoping to get his eyes off of her.

"You've got the goods, honey," the middle-aged man said, resting his feet on the table.

He took out a cigarette and started to blow out big puffs.

"I know the goods, I've seen the goods… and, you've got the goods," he added on.

Mimi sat back down and decided that she didn't want to know what he meant. Instead, she thanked the club owner and asked him what he had in mind for her.

"I can clean up. I'm really good with the broom, I…"

The manager slammed his palm on his desk so vehemently that Mimi ceased in mid-sentence, blinking rapidly as if the sound had stung her eyes.

"What's this nonsense? Broom?" he boomed, his gray eyes suddenly taking on a fearsome glare. "You will not hold a broom while you are in my club, you hear?"

"Well, I was just thinking…"

"NO! Trust me, I have something else in mind for you," he cooed, calming down and stubbing his cigarette on a metal ash tray.

"Oh, so… Waitress, maybe?" she muttered, afraid that the big boned man would lose his temper again.

"No, no. That simply won't do," he murmured reproachfully, swaggering to the opposite end of the room.

He looked outside his huge glass window, which hung over his bar, giving him a perfect view of the entire club. At now, it was empty and the chairs were stacked neatly on top of the round black tables. The runway stage was unlit and the place seemed so innocent to an onlooker's eye that one could barely even believe that the place drew in hundreds of pleasure-thirsty men at night.

"Tell me, honey," the big man suddenly spoke. "Have you ever danced?"

_Mark and Roger's loft: 12 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"ROGER!"

The blonde-haired man of 25 rolled over on his bed, twirling his blanket around his body. He moaned and attempted to cover his ears with his pillow.

"Not now, Mark," he grumbled groggily.

"For heaven's sake, Roger! IT'S 12:00!" Mark, an aspiring film director, grabbed the lone pillow from his roommate's grasp.

Roger moaned once more, his face hidden underneath unruly strings of blonde hair. Much as Mark persisted, Roger hadn't gotten a hair cut for the longest time. Neither had he stepped foot out of their apartment in forever, for that matter.

"Who cares if it's 12:00? I WANT TO SLEEP," Roger immediately snatched his yellowing pillow back from Mark.

Mark sighed in resignation and adjusted his glasses, which were slipping down his nose. He checked his watch and walked promptly out of the room in protest.

"WHATEVER!" he shouted back at Roger, who had retreated back under the covers once more.

"If we get robbed or anything while I'm off at WORK, and you're laying around snoozing like that… FINE. WHATEVER. I don't care!" he yelled, sick of Roger's repulsive behavior.

He scrambled all over the loft, attempting to scour the place for his beloved camera, and other gadgets. He tossed Roger's clothes to the side, which had been lying around, only to find his beloved Polaroid camera wedged between two threadbare cushions in the couch.

"Bye now!" Roger's voice floated from his room.

Mark made a sound of frustration. He decided to try a different approach.

"Why don't you take a walk in the park today?" he asked, nicely this time, while fixing his blue and red striped scarf around his neck. "Or you know… try to find a JOB. Like ME!"

Roger had been doing nothing for the past months since his beloved girl friend died, but write songs with his guitar, which always turned out to be sucky. Mark, however, had received a well earned job position from Buzzline.

"You HATE your job," Roger pointed out, shifting positions in his bed.

"But I earn MONEY," Mark snapped back.

"Money is nothing without happiness," Roger grumbled, half-asleep.

"UGH. I give up."

Mark could hear Roger laughing triumphantly to himself as he dragged his heavy filming equipment out the loft.

"If you do insist on staying inside the whole day…"

_Like you've done for everyday of your sad life, _Mark thought.

"Make yourself useful and pick up my new camera equipment," Mark ordered, struggling with his heavy bag full of gadgets, trinkets and whatnot.

"I just told them to leave it by the front door. 2:00!" he called, panting heavily. "Did you hear me, Davis? 2:00!"

Roger turned over on the bed, and kept his eyes shut. But nevertheless, he shouted OKAY to Mark to please him.

"Don't forget! You know how it is in New York."

"One day you have your things lying on the sidewalk, next thing, they're in the knapsack of some junkie," Mark mumbled to himself.

"Don't forget to take your AZT," he called, before letting the sliding metal door shut.

Of course, Roger was too far off in dreamland to hear.

_Joanne Jefferson's Law Firm: 12:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

Meanwhile, in another part of New York City, a dark skinned lawyer dressed in expensive garbs was fuming angrily from inside her office. She shook her head in suppressed fury, causing her black curly locks to sway from side to side.

_Joanne Jefferson, what has gotten into you? How could you, of all people lose this case! It was practically in the bag! _Joanne rebuked herself sharply.

How could she lose that case? How could the jury, after obvious evidence and clear reasoning, still give the win to the opposition? The only thing that stood between her and that victory was a small eight year old girl, who had undeniably memorized her lines. It was all an act, and she knew it. Now, another criminal was running lose in the Big Apple.

Screw it.

_Okay, _she told herself, _forget about it and focus on your new case._

She opened her desk drawer and tried to find a certain case file between the mess. "Where is it?" she grumbled, taking mounds of papers out of her drawer.

"Ah, there it is," she spoke to herself, pulling out a short yellow folder.

"Hmm… okay," she read, "Mr. Johnny Gonzales filed a case against a Ms. Maureen Johnson for illegally claiming to own a lot without a title."

The middle-aged lawyer stroked her chin pensively. _I think I'll go check it out, _she thought to herself. It has always been a notorious habit of hers to spy on the opposition.

So right after a quick lunch of oven-warmed pasta, Joanne glanced at the lot address in her file and was off. Driving through Alphabet City in her newly owned Mercedes Benz, she couldn't help but think to herself how queer Ms. Johnson's name sounded.

Maureen? Now who would own a name like that?

Once she arrived, Joanne was surprised to find the "lot" (if you could call it that) in a somewhat underground tavern. Hobos and city vagabonds eyed her in her long fancy gray coat as she passed. Eventually, she reached the lot which she was apparently fighting for.

An eerie high pitched voice came floating to the lawyer's ear as she passed under the spray painted archway, to enter the lot.

Joanne spied a woman standing atop a rough hewn stage, singing her heart out into a specially made brown microphone.

"Hi! You came to watch me?" the woman asked, once she saw the surly looking lawyer enter the space.

"No… Actually, I…"

The performer wouldn't hear a word, and dragged Joanne over to the very front of the stage.

"Great, I need you to tell me how this sounds," she said, rushing back up the stage.

"Uh… I was just taking a look…"

"_Only thing to do is jump over the moon, over the mooooo!"_

Joanne cocked her head to the side, obviously annoyed at the woman's singing. But, she also couldn't help admiring the woman's curvy body, long red locks and plump crimson lips. Once she finished the song, Joanne clapped to please her.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the performer bowed gracefully.

"Maureen Johnson here everyday of the week folks, everyday!"

"You're Maureen?" Joanne asked, pointing a finger as if accusing her of something.

"Yes, MAUREEN JOHNSON," she said her name as if it were of great importance.

"And this… Is MY performance space!" she put her hands up in the air, acknowledging the desolate area.

"Not if you're owning it illegally," Joanne said in return.

Maureen shot a bloody look toward the lawyer.

"And who, may I ask, are you?" Maureen raised a curious eyebrow, as if only first noticing that a cross-dressing woman was standing in her presence.

"I'm Joanne. Attorney Joanne Jefferson."

_Life Support Meeting: 1 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

Tom Collins stood at the bottom of a flight of steps that led toward the front door of a small auditorium. He eyed the pale faces of the people who slowly passed him, and entered the little theater.

Tom stood there, still unsure if he really wanted to enter. He stuffed his chilly hands inside his yellow vest and let out a long sigh. As he was about to turn and leave, he bumped into someone from behind.

"I'm sorry!" he immediately cried, happy that the person hadn't fallen.

"No harm done, honey," the person said, smiling.

Collins looked the person up and down. She was wearing a rather peculiar outfit, though Collins thought she pulled it off very well, considering the circumstances. She suited a red Santa-looking top (complete with the fluffy white collar), a white skirt with flowers sewn on here and there, long green stockings with a pattern that reminded Collins of crocodiles and knee-high boots to match.

"I saw you looking over there," she cocked her head toward the auditorium.

"Having second thoughts, sugar?" she asked.

Collins was taken aback at how easily she understood him, but nodded.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, were all like you," she said, smiling.

_So she's one of us, _Collins thought to himself.

"Come on."

The kind woman twirled her slender arm around Collins' dark skinned one and led him inside. They found that the meeting was already starting, with everyone gathered in a circle. Seats were placed right in front of the small stage.

The woman Collins had come in with pulled up a chair and joined the circle without hesitation, like she was a regular there. Collins took off his bonnet and took a seat beside her.

There was awkward silence.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves. I'm Dionell," one man started, gesturing to the woman next to him.

"Meg."

"Sasha."

"Tom."

"Anthony."

"Claire."

Everyone put their eyes on Collins. He mustered a meek smile.

"Collins," he stopped. "Tom."

"Tom Collins."

Gazes turned to the woman next to Collins.

Surprisingly, she reached behind her head and pulled off her stark black wig. The rest tried not to look shocked, especially Collins, who had really thought her a woman.

"Hi," she said slowly, neglecting our stares.

"I'm Angel."

_Angel, _Collins thought, _What a beautiful name._

_Mark and Roger's loft: 2 pm, Eastern Standard Time _

Roger yawned and finally hobbled out of bed after 2 more hours of sleep. He scratched at the back of his head while walking out to the kitchen, barefoot.

He poured himself a glass of orange juice and took a bite out of the stale toast which was in the middle of the table. He spit it out immediately and drank some juice to get rid of the putrid taste.

He glanced at the clock on the wall and nearly choked on his juice. It was 2:10! For all he knew, Mark's equipment could've been snatched up by some thief by now! Drat, why'd he have to go and agree to him?

Roger rushed out to the fire escape and leaned over the balustrade to look to the sidewalk. And sure enough, two big brown packages were lying at the top of the steps.

"Shit," Roger muttered crossly.

He raced out of the loft and down the steps. In his rush, he clashed into a person who was coming up the stairs, carrying a large cardboard box. They both fell over from the impact and landed on the 2nd floor landing.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" Roger cried, sitting up and clutching his head.

The woman he had bumped sat up laughing and managed to get some stray brown hair strands from her face.

"It's okay."

For a moment, the two stared at each other, transfixed and hypnotized in each other's eyes. There was this instant mutual emotion that surged between them, at the moment they looked each other in the eyes.

Roger found the young girl's eyes vaguely familiar.

"Hi," the girl finally broke the silence.

"Hi," Roger said, shaking his head as if to push the hypnotism away.

He got up and helped the tanned young woman stand as well. She blushed when he gazed into her eyes again. She brought her falling blue sweater shyly up to her shoulders, covering her lilac top.

"I'm Roger," Roger said, extending his hand absentmindedly.

"Mimi," Mimi said, shaking his outstretched hand.

"Are you moving in?" he asked, just noticing her belongings all over the floor.

"Yeah," Mimi began to pick up her stuff from the floor.

Roger bent down to help her, throwing the things carelessly back inside the box. He was still too busy admiring her eyes.

_Yikes, Roger. Pull yourself together._

Roger had never felt as strongly about someone this way since April had died, taking her own life. The picture of April dragged Roger's floating heart back down to the deep watery depths. Though very surprisingly, Mimi's one smile sent his heart flying all over the place again. What was it about her?

"Thanks," Mimi said, as she put the last item inside the box.

"No problem."

Awkward silence once more. Mimi bit her lip coyly. She picked up her box and took one step up the stairs.

"Well, see you around."

She turned and walked slowly up the stairs, as if expecting Roger to say something. When he didn't, she quickened her pace, obviously disappointed.

"Mimi!"

_Finally, _Mimi thought.

"Yeah?"

"Ummm… Do you want me to help you with your stuff?" Roger asked, being a gentleman.

Mimi grinned, and that was all Roger needed.

"The last box is on the sidewalk," she said, turning around and heading back up the stairs.

"Oh! I'm on the third floor," she added. Roger nodded.

Roger watched her disappear before flying down the steps. He wedged Mark's two parcels under his right arm, and easily lifted Mimi's box under his left. He trudged up the steps two at a time, humming a tune he would want to try later on the guitar.

He laid his load on the floor and knocked on the door of the third floor's lone apartment. Mimi immediately pulled the door open and gestured Roger inside. Her apartment was just as big as the loft, but needed a lot of work.

"Why'd you decide to move to New York?" he asked, laying the boxes on a tiny round table.

"You don't want to know," Mimi answered, checking out her bedroom.

Roger followed her into the bedroom.

"I do."

Mimi looked at him and sighed. "I ran away, okay?"

"Oh."

Roger didn't dare ask further. Mimi pushed past him back into her "living room." Roger followed silently, watching her slender legs pace the floor.

"Where do you work?" Roger asked.

"As of this morning… Cat Scratch," Mimi answered, heading for the bathroom.

"Cat Scratch? Isn't that the strip club?"

"Yeah, it is," Mimi twisted her face in disgust as she surveyed the bathroom.

"So… you're a – er – dancer?" Roger coughed.

"I guess…" Mimi answered uncertainly. "I wasn't planning to be one."

"WATCH OUT!"

Roger tried to catch Mimi as she slipped on a huge puddle of sink leakage. Unsuccessful, he simply ended up slipping as well and landing right flat on top of the big puddle. Mimi, saved from getting damp, landed right on top of him.

"Close one," Roger mumbled, not caring that he was lying on a puddle of sewer water.

"Yeah," Mimi muttered her face so close to his.

Much as he didn't want to, flashes of April's face crept into Roger's mind. Half-way into a kiss, Roger pushed Mimi away, causing her to roll over. Roger got up, dripping sewer leakage, and briskly walked out the bathroom.

Grabbing his parcels, he deftly took his large polo off, revealing his muscle shirt.

"Roger!" Mimi called. "I'm sorry… why…"

"Goodbye, Mimi," he said, closing the door to her apartment.

A/N: Sorry that was so long. I just wanted to get all the characters introduced in one chappie so I could get on with the plot. :) R&R, dears! Pretty please:)


	2. Guardian Angel and Savior Collins

Thanks so much to who reviewed! You know I love you. XD

Disclaimer: I love rent, but do not own it. :)

* * *

(Narrator's POV)

_Cat Scratch Club: 8 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

Mimi felt uncomfortable in the tight black garments that she had been instructed to wear. It was her first time to wear anything this revealing, let alone the fishnets. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought twice whether or not to exit the bathroom.

"MARQUEZ! Get the fuck out of there!" someone banged repeatedly on the door.

Afraid to lose her job, Mimi crept out of the bathroom with apologies. The other girls just gave her stone cold glares. None of them were very friendly. One of them, Alexa, seemed to loathe Mimi for no particular reason.

Trying to be optimistic about her job (thinking about the pay), Mimi focused on fixing her make-up. She took great liking to purple eye shadow and glittering pink lip gloss. As she looked at the other girls, nervousness swept over her.

She hadn't been taught any steps, but the manager had told her to dance. Did she have to strip like Roger had said?

"Say Jessica," Mimi stood up and went to a fellow dancer. "Do we have to – er – strip?"

"Sometimes," she answered, applying some mascara.

Mimi gulped and asked, "Sometimes?"

"Chill girl, tips are good," she said rather flippantly.

"Right, tips."

"Okay people!" the stage director boomed through a speaker phone. "5 Minutes, you hear? FIVE MINUTES!"

Girls continued to bustle about, borrowing blush, lip stick and whatnot. Mimi, not concerned much of how she looked anymore, went up to the stage director.

"Sir, I'm new… I…"

"3 MINUTES! HUSTLE PEOPLE! HUSTLE!" he ignored Mimi.

"SIR." She stomped her foot on the ground and waved her hand in front of his face.

The director turned an angry look at Mimi.

"What?" he spat.

"I don't know any moves, steps or…"

"1 minute! Everybody line up here!" he interrupted my sentence.

"Sir!" Mimi whined.

"Look," he said harshly. "We don't care about steps. Just dance, strip whatever!"

"But…"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY, NEWBIE!" he growled, throwing his pencil at his clipboard.

The girls were beginning to line up behind Mimi, making last minute costume adjustments. Mimi tried her hardest not to panic, but instead, ask her co-workers about what was to be done. They were obviously to be of no help.

Before she knew it, Mimi was being pushed out on stage. The blinking stage lights seemed to blind her for a split second, but she was pushed forward by her colleagues. The crowd (which was 90 men) had already begun to yell and shout.

Mimi was frozen still on the spot. The rest had begun to dance to the sexy hip hop type of music. The director waved at Mimi to move.

"Crap, Marquez! MOVE!" he yelled from backstage.

Mimi tried to sway, nod her head to the music or something, but her body seemed rigid and wouldn't let her move it.

"Ow!"

Alexa had deliberately pushed Mimi to center stage, causing her to topple over and fall. The men in the front row roared with laughter. Drunks – obviously. Mimi immediately got up and ran backstage.

"Get back out there, Marquez!" the director ordered, standing firmly in her path.

Mimi's eyes immediately filled with tears. "No…"

"No?" the director raised an eyebrow.

Mimi shook her head and let tears fall.

"Okay then. Get your things and get out of here, NOW."

Mimi looked up, putting on begging eyes and getting down on her knees. She clutched the director's pants in agony.

"No, please sir. I need a job," she pleaded.

"Either this, or you leave," he said, obviously heartless.

Mimi looked towards the stage then back at the heartless man. She slowly got up and reluctantly walked back on the runway, trying to wipe away her tears.

She tried her best to do a sexy dance that would please the audience, but other dancers would just end up knocking her over. One thing was for sure, the crowd had a laugh out of her.

"Hey, sweetie! What are you doing here? This is no place for amateurs!" a bald stubby pig of a man called from the front row, clearly aiming his mean remarks at Mimi.

He took a swig from his huge bottle of beer and added, "You dance like shit!"

Mimi pretended not to hear and continued to dance. She would show that pig. She got down on the floor and did a routine which, even she didn't know where it came from. She grabbed the gorged man by the tie, and pushed him back so hard that he stumbled over his chair.

"Ooooo," the crowd sang in chorus.

"BITCH!" the drunkard yelled.

He surged forward, with a hand raised to hurt her. All Mimi could do was cower on the stage, and hope that the slap wouldn't sting. But the blow never came. She looked up and saw that a tall woman had kept the pig's hand from touching her.

"Keep your fat arm away from her, you slob," she spat, her voice coming out lower than expected.

"Oh? A feisty one," the bald man licked his lips. "I like them feisty."

In his drunken state, the mid-forty's man grabbed the woman by the hips and placed her on a chair. He began to rub his hand against her thigh.

"How's about coming home with a guy like me?" he purred.

The woman swiftly pulled the slob off of her and slapped his face hard. Then, she reached behind her head and pulled off her wig. The pig's mouth dropped in horror.

"You're a drag!"

"Yes, I'm a drag," the woman said, her eyes piercing.

"But I'm more of a man that you'll ever be, and more of a woman than you'll ever get."

The man could utter no curt reply, but slumped down in his seat, traumatized by the fact that he had thought a drag queen a real woman.

The drag queen walked over to Mimi, and placed her hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Have you ever done this before, honey?" she asked sweetly.

Mimi decided to lie and shook her head. Though she wanted to thank this cross dressing man for what she had done, she, also, was stunned.

"Well come on, let's get you out of here."

The drag queen spoke to Mimi like she was a long lost friend. Mimi really felt like she was, the woman made her feel that way. Slowly, she took the drag's hand and walked off the stage, ignoring her manager's calls.

Once outside, Mimi's thin garments didn't welcome the cold very well. The drag immediately gave Mimi her very own coat.

"Thank you," Mimi finally found her voice.

"Don't mention it sugar, he was a pig," she said, stroking Mimi's hair.

"Now why'd you go and get a job like that if you knew you couldn't do it?" she asked, putting her wig back on.

"I needed the money," Mimi answered, sniffing and choking back her tears.

"Awww, honey. Come on, I think you could use some dinner," she said, pulling out a tissue and handing it to the young Latina.

"I really haven't got any money," Mimi said, dabbing her eyes.

"Don't worry about that, sweetie. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you," was all Mimi could muster.

They slowly walked away from the club, feet crunching against the snow. The drag walked with poise and had a certain skip to her stroll.

"I'm Mimi," Mimi said.

"Angel," the drag queen smiled.

"What were you doing in there anyway?" Mimi asked, finally over what had happened.

"I was spying for my boss," Angel laughed. "Shhh!"

Mimi laughed as well. She had decided many minutes ago that she liked Angel and that they would become very good friends.

"Where do you work?"

"Oh, just a little club downtown called Drags' Palace. It's a cozy little place, people get pretty into it," she smiled and did a little dance step in the air.

"Well I think I'm out of a job," Mimi muttered sadly, but smiled despite her unfortunate plight.

"I think we'll find something for you," Angel reassured optimistically. "A beautiful girl like you? Oh, no doubt."

Mimi couldn't help but grin. "Where are we going?"

They had turned into a brightly lit street full of people, mostly tourists. Mimi couldn't help gazing into shop windows at the lovely but costly clothes she wished she could own.

"People call it the Life Café, but I call it the Life," Angel said, also taking interest in shop displays.

_The Life. _Mimi liked that.

"So… have you met anyone yet?" she asked, walking so briskly that Mimi had to jog to keep up.

"How'd you even know I was new here?" Mimi asked, surprised.

"Obviously, sweetie. You asked where we were going in _Avenue B_," Angel shook her head with laughter. "Everyone knows that the Life is the place to go to in Avenue B."

"Oh." Mimi laughed along.

"So? Anyone catch your eye yet?" Angel smiled slyly. "Any guy?"

"Well, there's this guy who lives in the same building as me… but I don't think that'll work," Mimi disclosed sadly, remembering Roger.

"Must be stupid. Doesn't want you? Please, honey!" Angel scoffed.

"Tell me all about it after we order because were here!" she sang, opening a small wooden door that led to a small café. The bell on the upper threshold jingled as a hello.

"Welcome to the Life."

_Mark and Roger's loft: 8 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Oh, I didn't know you'd be up Davis," Mark said sarcastically, just coming home from work.

"Jesus, Mark. Lay off," Roger said, plucking some guitar strings.

"Or what?" Mark sneered, removing his scarf and coat.

"Or I won't tell you were I put your new equipment," Roger said, strumming a G chord then scribbling something in his mini notebook.

"Oh."

"In that case, how's about I buy you a new guitar?" Mark grinned.

"Shut up, Cohen. You know you're dirt broke after buying all that _new _equipment," Roger accused, as if the money had been flushed down the toilet.

"You just weren't content with one camera. Does your Polaroid know that you're cheating on her, by the way?" Roger snapped, getting up and fixing himself a glass of cider.

"Yes, she does know," Mark replied smartly. "And guess what? She still loves me."

Roger rolled his eyes, frustrated that Mark hadn't been thrown off by his statement.

"The other ladies are in your top closet," Roger finally said, referring to the filming equipment.

"Thank you."

"Well, I have a date with Maureen," Mark informed, making his way to the bathroom.

"And what are you doing tonight?" he leaned coolly on the bathroom door and looked at Roger for an answer.

Roger sipped his cider and pretended not to have heard his roommate's question.

"Oh, right. You're going to _try _and write a song like you've been doing for 5 months now," Mark tsk-ed and shook his head.

Suddenly, Mark's face scrunched up as a smell drifted toward his nostrils.

"What the fuck is that?" he cursed, looking around the bathroom.

Roger smiled deviously and said, rather innocently, "The toilet wouldn't flush."

"Aw! Jesus, Roger!" Mark ran out of the bathroom and grabbed the Lysol can from the table.

He sprayed around the bathroom wildly, carefully making sure to keep a hand free to pinch his nose. He threw the empty Lysol can at Roger from all the way across the room. Roger just laughed, and stomped his foot on the ground hysterically.

"Crap on the street, Davis! You know how much we can save if we don't have to pay for a plumber to fix this piece of shit each month?" Mark scolded and slammed the bathroom door shut.

Roger finished his cider in triumph and placed the empty glass next to the sink. He heard the shower open and Mark curse very loudly about cold water. Then, the phone rang but he let the machine get it.

_SSSPPPEEEAAAKKK._

"Hey guys, it's me Collins. Throw down the key," came the former roommate's voice.

"Look whose home," Roger mumbled, running out to the fire escape.

"Yo, Collins! You better have some money on you!" he called, throwing down the key.

"I've missed you too, Rog," Collins answered sarcastically.

Roger smirked at his buddy before going back inside the loft to wait for him. He grabbed his guitar and played some chords. It sounded all wrong. He set it down on the table in frustration.

"Merry Christmas, bitches!" Collins said, coming in the loft.

Roger got up with a grin and gave his friend a manly hug, which soon turned into a cute scene between two friends who missed each other.

"You look like shit, you know that?" Collins said, punching Roger on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. I actually haven't looked better," Roger replied.

"Got that right."

"So Col! Why you here?" Roger started, slapping Collins on the face.

"Got sick of your students?" he joked, leading Collins further in the loft.

"They fired me," Collins said, no trace of regret in his voice.

"So, I came home," he said, sprawling himself on the couch with a satisfied smile.

"You don't mind if I crash here for a while, do you?" Collins lifted his head to look at Roger.

Roger sat down and pretended to act smug.

"Well?" Collins prodded on.

"Do you want me to say no?" Roger warned, smirking.

"Thanks man."

They did a guy handshake, you know, the "guy thing."

"Where's Mark?" Collins asked, suddenly noticing that the blonde wasn't in the room.

"Taking a sho…"

"Holy, Collins!" came a voice from the bathroom.

Mark ran up to Collins, with just a towel around his waist, his hair still dripping wet. He leaned in to give Collins his "manly" hug, but Collins backed away.

"Yo man, put on a shirt!" he complained, looking at Roger with a what-the-hell-was-he-thinking look.

"Right, be right back."

After a few minutes, Mark came out of his bedroom fully dressed for his date. Collins must've noticed his outfit, figuring Mark had a planned excursion.

"You going somewhere?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dinner with Maureen," Mark declared proudly.

"You're still together?" Collins looked shocked.

Mark shot him a warning look. "Yes," he hissed.

Collins and Roger snickered to themselves.

"Hold up, Cohen. You're actually going to leave me here with Pretty Boy?" Collins asked, earning himself a well earned bloody look from Roger.

"Uhhh, yeah." Mark put on his coat and scarf once more.

"Uh, no. I'm going with you," Collins announced, jumping on his two feet. "After all, I miss my Mo."

"What? NO!" Mark said firmly.

But all Collins had to do was raise an eyebrow to the film-maker, and Mark gave in.

"You come too, Rog," Collins ordered.

"No thanks."

"Yes, let him stay!" Mark said, bewildered of how his date was being ruined.

Collins cast a cold look at Mark and said, "Come on, you need to get out."

"Nah."

"Jesus, Rog! You can't lock yourself in this hell hole forever!"

"I think I can."

The dispute went on and on in the same manner, but eventually (with much persuasion and threatening) Collins and Mark managed to push Roger out the door in a newly washed and well ironed shirt.

"Were going to the Life, right?" Collins asked, pulling the metal door shut behind him.

"Duh."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the language. Heehee. :) Press that review button! Next chappie to come up shortly. Btw: sorry if some of them are a bit out of character. I'm trying to experiment – with Mimi mostly. You know the good girl approach. Is this okay? Tell me by reviews. XD

Ah, well. No flames please:) I need encouragement to write more. Heehee. XD


	3. Us Bohemians

Disclaimer: I own rent… in my fantasies. :) Any credit this story gets will be offered up to the peaceful rest of Jonathan Larson, its real owner.

Review and I will love you. XD

* * *

(Narrator's POV)

_The Life Café: 9 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

People stared at the two girls who were chatting noisily and laughing boisterously in the corner table. What caused them to stare even more was the tall drag dressed in a tight hot pink top and a pair of blinding orange stockings.

"Get out!" Mimi cried, as Angel narrated her experiences as a runaway in New York.

"You actually threatened a girl scout, and stole her outfit to get free food in their end of summer party?" Mimi cried incredulously.

"In my defense, honey, the outfit was quite cute," Angel said.

They both burst out laughing once again. The laughter was cut short by the café bell, which jangled as three boys entered. Mimi eyed the newcomers with high curiosity, finding the dirty blonde in a blue polo quite familiar. But he had his head bent, as if he didn't want to be seen outside. The other two were complete strangers.

Mimi watched them walk toward the table in front of theirs and take seats. The man, who Mimi had recognized, sat with his back facing her, showing her only his head. Mimi tried to remember where she had seen such cute yellow locks before.

"Meems? Hello? Are you listening?" Angel waved a hand in front of Mimi's face.

"Yeah, sorry."

Wow, they had only known each other for 1 hour and Angel already had a nickname made up for her.

"For a minute there, I thought you were focused on something else but mwah!" Angel exclaimed unbelievably, putting her hand up to her chest.

Mimi laughed and stuck her tongue out at her new friend.

In the other table, Roger was silently cursing his two best friends for dragging him along. The other two didn't mind and were just cheerful that Roger had finally left the loft.

"Col, what you looking at?" Mark asked, eyeing the anarchist.

"Oh, nothing."

Collins glanced over Roger's shoulder at the black haired woman who sat at a nearby table. He could swear he knew her, and no one could mistake her sense of style.

"Collins, I swear your scaring me," Roger said, his eyes wide.

"Are you staring at me or her?"

"Haha," Collins rolled his eyes and cupped Roger's face in his hands.

Roger, who now looked like a blow fish, grabbed Collins' face as well and they both got entangled in each other's arms.

"You have such beautiful eyes, Rog," Collins said, rather seriously.

"Oh. Shut up," Roger said, pulling his hand away.

Mark snickered and Collins shook his head.

"God, where the hell is Maureen?" Mark said nervously, looking at his watch.

Roger gave Collins a look, and had to restrain laughter.

"Uh-oh," Collins teased, sneering. "Told you this would come."

"Rog, I believe you owe me 20 bucks," Collins rubbed his fingers together.

"Aw man, you know I'm broke," Roger grumbled.

He shoved Mark hard and blamed, "Why'd you gotta be suck a dick when it comes to the ladies?"

Mark rested his head on his fist and muttered stuff under his breath.

Collins laughed then turned his gaze back to the woman wearing hot pink. And while waiting for Maureen, that was all he could do. Even Mark and Roger's constant bickering couldn't distract him. Could it be? Angel?

Collins smiled at the thought. The drag queen had left the Life Support meeting in a flash, before he could have a word or two with her. Fortunately, Mimi noticed that the man was looking at her friend.

"Honey, are you sure you don't want any beer?" Angel asked, gulping down the last of hers.

"No. No thanks. I have a bad past with beer," Mimi said, laughing at herself but shivering at the thought.

"Say, sweetie," Mimi beckoned Angel to lean in.

"I think that guy over there has the hots for you," she whispered, moving her lips toward Collins.

Angel leaned back in her seat with a sly smile. She clutched her chest and batted her eyelashes, as if flattered. She wrung her hands in the air, as if getting ready, and then turned discreetly to look at her admirer.

"Collins!" she exclaimed, getting up.

Collins automatically jumped up, as if his name was the cue he had been waiting for all along.

"Angel! H-e-ey," he stammered.

Mimi watched Angel give him a sweet peck on the cheek. The man's friends looked up at the weird scene with inquisitive eyes. Mimi drank some of her apple cider as Collins introduced Angel to his friends. She wasn't listening to their names, unfortunately, but caught herself staring at the dirty blonde again.

"Oh, this is mi amiga."

Angel gestured toward Mimi, who smiled sweetly. Collins extended a hand, and she shook it.

"Collins," he said, with a big grin.

Mimi bit her tongue to suppress laughter when Angel mouthed her the words: _Isn't he hott? _Behind the man's back.

"Mimi," she answered, in a fit of giggles.

_Mimi? _Roger thought. _Now where have I ---_

"Mimi?"

The man wearing a blue polo turned around in surprise. Mimi almost dropped the glass she was holding. The rest were dumbfounded.

For a while, no one said anything as Mimi and Roger gaped at each other.

"Roger!" Mimi finally said, standing up as well.

The musician stood up at almost the exact same time.

"I can't believe…" they started at the same time.

"Well you…" they said in harmony again.

"You two _know _each other?" Collins intervened, with matching hand gestures.

"Well…" Roger started, his cheeks getting red.

"Sorta," Mimi finished for him.

"Uh, hello? I'm over here?" Mark reminded, inching slowly up to the four.

"I'm Mark," he shook hands with Angel and Mimi, who did it almost absentmindedly.

Both of them were staring at Roger.

"Where did you… uh, meet?" Collins swallowed.

"She just…"

"Moved in," Mimi completed.

"In our building," Roger added.

"Oh is he…?" Angel began, suddenly excited.

Mimi put her finger up to her lips to silence the drag. But Angel couldn't help beaming from ear to ear. Roger couldn't say anything. Apparently, he was still embarrassed over what had happened earlier that day.

"Perfect!" Angel squealed. "Let's put our tables together."

Mimi and Roger were about to contradict, but when Angel had her mind set on something, no one could change it. And now, she just had her mind set on getting Roger and Mimi together.

Collins and Mark helped Angel drag the two tables together, while Mimi and Roger stood in front of each other in awkwardness. From the corner of her eye, the drag queen watched.

"Mimi, about a while ago…"

"I don't really want to talk about it," Mimi answered, clearly still upset.

She took a seat on the newly formed longer table. Roger sighed and decided to stay away from Mimi tonight. Maybe he would try tomorrow. But Angel apparently didn't want to wait for tomorrow.

"You sit here, Roger," Angel coaxed, pushing Roger down on a seat in front of Mimi.

Mimi folded her arms across her chest and looked the other way. The others took seats, unaware of the tension that was going on between the two.

"I didn't catch you after Life Support," Collins began. "I wanted to say thanks."

"Don't mention it, honey," Angel said, laying her hand on Collins'.

He smiled.

"What'll it be?" the waitress licked her pencil and pressed the tip against her notebook.

"We already ate," Angel said, looking over at Mimi. "Want anything, sweetie?"

The young Latina laid her arms down on the table and shook her head, her eyes still glued to the floor. Roger tried to catch her eye, but she refused to meet his gaze. He put his arms flat on the table also, not meaning to make them land on hers.

Mimi looked up in surprise, and blushed.

_HA. _Roger thought. _She blushed._

"Rog?"

"Yeah?" Roger said in panic, bringing his arms up to his head in an instant.

"What do you want?" Collins asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, nothing. Just a beer," he said, slightly angry that Collins had to ruin it.

Mimi giggled to herself, but remembered that she was supposedly angry at the musician.

"I'll have 3 bottles," Mark announced, grabbing a half-empty beer bottle from a waiter's tray as he passed.

He gulped down the liquid in one shot, firmly laying the bottle down on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"He was supposed to be on a date tonight," Collins whispered.

Mimi and Angel's mouths formed an "O."

Minutes dragged on. Mark drank bottle after bottle of beer, Collins and Angel were sipping some cider in one bottle with two straws while really hitting it off, and Mimi and Roger sat in silent defiance, Roger taking some sips of beer every now and then.

Then, after almost 15 minutes of torture, two ladies entered the Life and walked up to the table.

"Hey Mo!" Collins greeted. "I didn't think you'd make it!"

"Sorry were late!" a lady with auburn hair said cheerfully. She went around the table, pecking cheeks, even of those people she didn't know.

"Guys, Maureen. Maureen, Mimi and Angel," Collins introduced.

"Hey!" she chirped, grinning broadly.

"Sorry were late. We had some business to attend to," Maureen apologized, removing her coat and draping it over a chair.

"Who's we?" Roger asked.

"Oh!" Maureen slapped her forehead. "Silly me."

She grabbed a dark skinned woman who was standing nearby and presented her to the entire table. The woman had a surly look and tried her best to smile.

"Guys, this is Attorney Joanne Jefferson," Maureen said.

"Hey," the table sang.

"Hi," she said curtly.

"Where's Marky?" Maureen asked, suddenly noticing her boyfriend's absence.

"Bathroom… 5 beers… don't ask," the table grumbled in reply.

"Maureen, baby!" Mark suddenly emerged from the bathroom. "Nice of you to show up after one hour."

"Sorry, baby. I was dealing with some business," Maureen apologized, avoiding Mark's protruded lips and kissing his cheek.

"Ah," Mark's lips retreated. "What kind of business?"

"Well," Maureen held Joanne's hand, and all of them eyed it. "I officially own my performance space! Legally!"

The table erupted into a congratulatory cry of applause. And everyone stood up to hug Maureen.

"Yeah, finally!" Mark said groggily. "Congrats, baby."

The rest saw Joanne's face twist into a disgusted look. She eyed Maureen with a look that seemed to say, "Well?"

"Uh, Mark. I have to talk to you about something," Maureen began, fidgeting with her bag zipper.

Collins and Roger exchanged "uh-oh" looks.

"Okay, what is it?" Mark said, drunkenly laying a heavy hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Here? I was wondering maybe outside," Maureen said, frowning.

"Hey, it mustn't be something that the guys can't hear, right? Come on!"

Mark was having the worst hang-over that any one in the group had ever seen. Even his breath let out a putrid odor. The gang pretended not to be hearing the conversation, and busied themselves with their beer glasses.

"Okay…" Maureen glanced at Joanne. "Joanne and I are together."

"What? You came together? We all knew that!" Mark laughed hysterically, rousing the attention of every customer in the Life.

"No. No, Mark. Were _together._" Maureen let the word roll over her tongue.

"What?" Mark suddenly understood. "But baby were…"

"It just happened, Marky. Don't be upset," Maureen pleaded, grabbing Mark's face.

"No, right? You're joking?"

Maureen shook her head. Joanne kept her face smug.

"You're _breaking up with me?_" Mark spat, tears already fogging up his glasses.

Maureen nodded.

"I'm sorry, Marky… don't…"

Mark shook his head and took off his glasses.

"Shit, this can't be happening," he muttered to himself.

He looked at the table, and they all immediately looked the other way.

"Just great. Great."

The blonde broken-hearted boy staggered clumsily across the café and outside, wishing all this was a dream and that he would wake up the morning earlier with a brand new day.

"Do you think he's okay?" Maureen asked the gang, feeling guilty.

None of them answered, but Mark's shrill scream from outside answered Maureen's question.

"WHY?" Mark's high pitched voice could be heard. "GOD DAMMIT, WHY?"

"Aw, crap," Maureen muttered, running out of the café after Mark.

"MAUREEN!" Joanne called. "Leave the boy be!"

She looked at the table with innocent eyes. "Sorry," she muttered. "Bye."

Then she took off after her new girlfriend, her gray coat flapping against her back.

For a moment, no one spoke, letting the past events sink in their brains first. And when it did, no could seem to get the courage to act about it. What to do?

"He took it better than I expected," Collins spoke up.

The rest muttered agreements.

"I think I should go," Angel stood up, telepathically telling Collins to join her.

"I'll walk you home," Collins offered, getting Angel's message.

Mimi and Roger began to stand up. Half-way up, their friends gave them looks that seemed to say: we-want-to-be-alone. But of course, it was all a plot to get the two alone together. Mimi and Roger retreated back to their seats, being good friends.

"Bye!" the two called.

And with Collins hand on Angel's shoulder, they left the Life in a fit of giggles.

Roger and Mimi sat there for a bit, avoiding each other's eyes. Mimi crossed her ankles and began to bite her nails. Roger bounced his knee up and down. He looked at Mimi, and their eyes met for a few seconds, but Mimi immediately looked away.

"Mimi," Roger spoke. "Are you mad?"

Mimi's eyes went to the side to glance at Roger, but she didn't answer. Roger drummed his fingers on his knee.

"Look," he placed his hand on Mimi's, this time non-accidental. "I'm sorry about a while ago."

Mimi felt Roger's fingers slowly lace into hers, his thumb running up and down her forehand.

"Don't apologize, Roger. _I'm _sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay," they both said at the same time.

Roger laughed, Mimi blushed. They both had the same thing on their minds: let's start over.

"So, how was your first day in New York, Ms. Marquez?" Roger asked, his hand still clasped in hers.

"Scary," Mimi laughed.

"Why? Did anyone hurt you coz I…"

"No, Roger. Everything was fine, Angel helped me," Mimi smiled, glad that Roger was being so protective.

She narrated to him about all the events at the Cat Scratch. His face twisted in fury when I got to the part about the drunken barbaric man.

"You say he was fat and bald?" Roger asked, after I had finished.

"Yeah, why?"

"I think I might know him," Roger crunched his fists.

We both laughed.

"So, what do you do?" Mimi asked.

Clearly, both of them were caught up in a world where only they existed.

"I play the guitar, write songs. You know…" he said.

"Wow! Are you part of a band?" Mimi was amazed.

"Uh, no."

"Oh."

"Well you know, I haven't been out much lately and… What?" Roger laughed, seeing Mimi's foolish grin.

"Nothing. I just love a man with a guitar," Mimi joked, smirking.

"Really?" Roger said seductively.

Mimi just laughed and said, "Really."

"Maybe I'd play a song just for you one day."

They just smiled for a couple of seconds.

"I decided I want to know," Roger said suddenly.

"About what?"

"Why you ran away," Roger's lips drew into a thin line.

"It's a long story," Mimi said, still unsure if she wanted to reveal.

"I have time," Roger shrugged.

"Well… okay," Mimi gave in.

_My parents are really rich, they own a vast chain of companies in L.A. And you know, with all that money to squander, I was just a typical spoiled rich girl. Experimented with drugs, got wasted every night, skipped school to go to bars._

Roger gulped.

_But one day it went too far and I ended up in juvie for three years. I was 16 then. And well, I really learned my lesson there in juvie. I was ready to start again, like, get back all the years I wasted. I even wanted to study again and finish Med school._

_Heck, I knew how to dance, I know how to strip. But when I went to juvie, it's like it didn't feel right to do those things anymore. But actually, a while ago at Cat Scratch, I could've done a pretty good job if I just weren't 'cleansified' already._

Roger sighed in relief.

_So when I got home, my parents threw all this shit at me about an arranged marriage and everything. I got really angry at them, especially when I found out that I was only marrying this guy because my parents thought they could use his money. I yelled, screamed and bawled my eyes out about marrying the guy I loved when the time came, but they wouldn't hear a word of it._

_So I ran away._

"I mean, I wanted to find real love, you know?" Mimi finished, sighing and shaking her head.

"Yeah," Roger muttered, finding Mimi's story too much to take in after 30 seconds.

"Sorry. I know that's a lot to take," Mimi apologized with a sad frown.

"It's okay. I'm glad you told me," Roger said, brushing his hand against Mimi's.

"Okay, it's your turn, pretty boy. What's your story?" Mimi asked.

"Errr…"

"Rog, I told you mine! That's unfair," Mimi pouted.

"Okay, okay. Don't yell, scream or bawl your eyes out on me," he grinned.

Mimi rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Well?"

"Okay."

_Well, my story's quite long._

_My dad was the typical drunkard. He would gamble a lot until early morning and when he lost, he took out his anger on me. So, you know, I got beat up a lot. But my mom kept me safe, well; at least she kept me alive._

_But I knew he hurt her too. I would see her in the morning with bruises and a black eye. And I once saw striations on her back – assuming he had belted her. I was so angry at my dad. I would have fist fights with him to defend my mom, but I was scrawny and he always ended up winning._

_Pretty soon, my mom fell ill with pneumonia and it just got worse and worse because my dad wasted the medicine money on gambling. When she died, things got inferior. And so, I ran away with only my guitar._

_Went to New York, where I got kicked out of places I tried to audition in. And it was in one audition, that he was filming, where I met Mark. And well, he helped me. Got me back on my feet. That's how I ended up in the loft._

"You see?" Roger smiled. "Were both runaways."

It was Mimi's turn to place her hand on his.

"I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Roger laughed. "Jesus, this is getting too emotional."

_Don't tell her about April yet, Roger. Not just yet._

_Don't tell her about the HIV yet, Roger. Not just yet._

But fate had other plans in mind.

At that moment, Roger's AZT beeper went off. He shut it off instantly, pretending it was just his watch that had made the beeping sound.

Discreetly, he took an AZT tablet from the bottle in his pocket and popped it in his mouth, using some beer to wash it down.

"Cough medicine," he said, seeing Mimi's confused look.

She nodded.

_Thud._

"Crap."

Roger watched his AZT tablets roll all over the floor, trying hard to collect them all before Mimi had seen. But it was too late, since she had already recognized the medicine bottle.

Roger stood up, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Roger… you?" Mimi's eyes narrowed down on him, as if trying to see his soul.

Roger decided that it was no use and nodded slowly, his head bent.

"Sorry I didn't tell you, I should go," he muttered, closing the cap of his HIV medicine.

"Roger, wait!" Mimi grabbed his arm from behind.

Roger's eyes were disappointed and heartbroken.

Mimi reached in her tight stripping outfit and pulled out her smaller AZT bottle. Roger squinted his eyes at the bottle, as if refusing to believe that he and Mimi were the same.

"You?" he barely breathed.

Mimi nodded slowly, kneading her hands against his chest. She could feel tears brimming in her eyes. Roger wrapped his arms around her and laid her head on his chest.

"Mimi…"

(Mimi's POV)

The cold night air blew against my cheeks, causing me to shiver. Angel had taken her coat with her when she left, so I was left to walk in the freezing December weather in my strip clothes.

Just when I thought my knees would buckle and give away, I felt Roger's arm go around my shoulders. He draped his own brown coat on me and brought me closer. I felt his warmth.

"Thanks," I murmured.

I felt his arm twirl slowly around my arm and his hand clasp my hand. I immediately felt as if I were sitting in front of a newly lit hearth of fire.

"Mmm…" I nuzzled his arm.

We were walking through the deserted alleys of Avenue B, making our way back home from the Life. It had pretty much been a silent trip since we had left the café. All as well, I liked it quiet. I felt like we didn't need words to say what we were both thinking and feeling.

After a few minutes of walking, I was already getting drowsy. It was just then that I remembered that I forgot to take my AZT a few hours before. I could already feel my head swirling and my legs getting weak. I didn't want to ruin anything so I pretended to be fine.

We still hadn't said a word when we reached the building. Roger led me inside, and we climbed the flights of steps in silence. My eyes began to get foggy. The weariness was slowly creeping up to my head.

"Ahhh…"

I stumbled in dizziness and landed hard on the top step of the 2nd floor.

"Mimi! God, Mimi!" Roger bent low to look at me.

I clutched my head in my hands and tried to make the fuzziness in front of my eyes disappear. I couldn't even see Roger anymore.

"Forgot to take AZT," I grumbled.

"How could you forget your AZT?" Roger scolded.

I moaned in pain and that got Roger to replace his anger with intense worry.

"Here, Mimi! Open!"

Roger popped one of his own AZT tablets in my mouth. I tried to grab a part of him, finding my hands touching his cute blonde locks.

"Maybe I'm just tired," I muttered.

After all, I hadn't been able to get a decent night's sleep in 3 days.

"Shit, come on. Let's get you up," Roger said, concern was all that filled his tone.

Before I knew it, he had scooped up in his arms and carried me up the steps. Though I found myself feeling better already (maybe it was Roger's special magic), I gave in and just snuggled into Roger's chest.

"Crap, you lock your door?" Roger said, trying to pull my apartment door open.

"Yeah, don't worry, I think you can put me down now," I laughed a little.

"You sure?" Roger's eyes were full of concern.

"I'm sure, Rog."

He put me down cautiously, as if ready to pick me up again. Wearily, I felt around the upper threshold of my apartment door for the key. I twisted the key in the lock and opened the door.

"Are you sure you don't need me or anything?" Roger asked.

"No, Rog, I'm fine," I smiled.

"Thank you, again," I said to Roger, standing in the doorway.

"Don't mention it, Mimi. Only for you, okay?" he said sweetly, smiling.

I smiled and found myself leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. I saw his face go scarlet red.

"Good night," I said, smiling coyly.

"Good night," Roger replied, his face breaking out in a foolish grin.

Half-way through closing the door, Roger reached in and prevented the door from closing. I heard him curse before I opened the door once more.

"Roger? What…"

"Mimi, about a while ago," he cut me short.

"Yeah?"

"You think we can try that again?" he asked.

"Well…"

Before I could finish my sentence, I felt Roger's lips against mine. At first I backed away in shock, but then I found my arms going around his neck and kissing him back. After we pulled away, Roger smiled and I smiled – the works.

"Good night," he repeated in a rush, and ran up the stairs to the loft.

* * *

A/N: Yikes, never really wanted Roger to get that emotional and anything. But well, it's nice to try a new approach, right:) Tell me what you think… I can always change it. XD Again: Review and I will love you. XD 


	4. Dangled Mark, Mangled Heart

Whee! Roger and Mimi are finally together! Haha. Thanks so much for the reviews! Thank you most especially to RomanceOfTheSky for some constructive criticism. :) I'm keeping the story the same though, I'm really trying to experiment with the charactes, you see. Thanks for continuing to read! XD

Sorry dudes, Mimi and Roger are really just going to be... well, not themselves. It's how I pictured they would be deep down, you know, rather than the outer obvious personality. :)

When you review, you put one more chapter into this story. XD Btw: I changed the lyrics of your eyes to suit the story in this one. :)

Disclaimer: Though I am aspiring to be Jonathan Larson, he still owns rent. I, however, am still working on my own masterpiece. XD

* * *

(Narrator's POV) 

_Mark and Roger's loft: December 11, 1990, 10 am, Eastern Standard Time_

"Good morning, sunshine," Roger teased, as Mark exited his room sleepily.

His eyes were red and his hair was sticking up in odd places. Roger saw that he went to bed in the clothes he had on the previous night.

"You're actually up before me?" Mark asked, scratching his head and squinting to make sure he wasn't hallucinating (he didn't have his glasses on, pity).

"You slob, you went to bed in your clothes again?" Roger said wryly, hitting Mark with the line that he used to throw at Roger every morning.

Roger was up at 10 am, already bathed and dressed and eating a bowl of cereal with a glass or orange juice – it was all too much for Mark to handle.

"I must be dreaming," Mark muttered to himself. "I'm going back to bed."

"You go do that, sleeping beauty."

Mark slammed the door shut behind him, ignoring Roger's remark. Roger laughed quietly to himself and focused his attention back on his cereal. Usually, he would've skipped breakfast and just grab a cup of coffee, but something in him felt like a little cereal and juice that morning.

Mark came back out of his room, this time wearing his boxers and a muscle shirt. Roger didn't even look up and threw his roommate the aspirin bottle from all the way across the room.

"Good morning, again."

"How many bottles did I drink last night?" Mark asked, plopping himself beside Roger in the kitchen.

"About a thousand."

Roger poured his best friend a glass of orange juice, and the blonde used it to choke down two pills of aspirin. Clearly, his head had felt the hang over a few minutes after he had woken up.

"It did happen, didn't it?" Mark asked, frowning.

"Maureen breaking up with you, and you acting like a whining baby all over it?" Roger said. "Yeah, mostly."

Mark groaned and knocked his head repeatedly on the kitchen table.

"Mark! My cereal!"

Just then, someone knocked at the loft door. Roger ran to answer it, after placing his beloved cereal bowl away from Mark's self pity.

"It's probably the plumber here to fix the toilet," the blonde grumbled.

Roger pulled the door open, but found no sewer technician.

"Mimi! What are you doing here?" Roger feigned confusion but was actually very happy to see her.

"Uh, nothing," Mimi answered, smiling.

"Check on Mark after what happened last night," she lied, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Oh, come in then," Roger grinned. It was the first time he actually silently thanked Mark for sucking at relationships.

"Nice to see you put a new shirt on," Mimi teased, taking mind to pinch Roger's side playfully.

"You still need to help me wash my other shirt. It smells like crap," Roger teased back.

"I think I'll just have to take you up on that, Mr. Davis."

Mimi strode across the loft in her short multicolored skirt and brown leather boots, which Roger took great care to look at. She looked around and found Mark talking to his orange juice glass.

"What's wrong with me, huh? You'd love me, right?" he asked it, chin rested on the kitchen table.

"Hey Mark."

The film maker jumped up in surprise, finding Mimi standing right behind him. He shook his head, believing that he was still dreaming.

"Hey… uh, Mimi?" Mark looked at Roger with a brow raised.

Roger simply nodded.

"You look – er - okay," Mimi tried hard not to giggle.

"Oh, Jesus," Mark remembered he was just in his boxers and muscle shirt.

"I think I'll go take a shower," his cheeks grew red, and he ran off and shut the bathroom door behind him.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1," Roger counted.

"OH CRAP!"

"ROGER! THE TOILET ISN'T FIXED YET!" he yelled.

"Lysol's in the bottom cabinet, Cohen!" Roger called back.

He and Mimi burst into laughter. The young Latina kept on laughing, unaware that Roger had stopped to stare at her.

When she noticed, she waved her hand in front of Roger's face.

"Rog?"

Roger smiled and grabbed her arms to pull her closer. He kissed her, and she didn't stop him. Another knock on the door ended it though.

Roger pulled away and sighed. Mimi had her eyes closed, but opened them once he stopped.

"One moment, one moment," he held a finger up as he went to answer the door.

"It's just the stupid plumber," he said, quite angrily.

"Okay, but after you open that door, you're all mine," Mimi said, smiling and sitting down on a nearby worn out couch.

Roger grinned broadly and hurried to answer the door. Again, he found no toilet repair man, but Collins and Angel.

"Oh, it's you," Roger's cold eyes met the two.

"Well look whose up," Collins whistled, pushing a empty plastic pickle tub in Roger's chest.

"Buenos dias, Señor," Angel greeted merrily.

"Why are you here?" Roger asked bitterly, letting the container slide to the side of the loft.

"Que?" Angel asked, shocked.

"Uh, I live here," Collins said, pushing past the musician and into the loft.

"Mimi!" Angel called, seeing her new best friend on the couch.

"Angel!" Mimi ran into Angel's arms, as if they hadn't seen each other for a month.

"What're you doing here, sweetie?" Angel asked, quite clueless.

Roger coughed really loud to get Mimi's attention and sat down on the couch. Angel took one look at the musician, then back at her Latina friend.

"¿Miel, algo sucedió ayer por la noche?" a sly smile spread over the drag queen's face. _Honey, did something happen last night?_

Roger had no idea what the two ladies were talking about. Neither did Collins, so he took a seat next to the guitarist and pondered over the Spanish dubbed scene they were watching.

"Si," Mimi giggled, jumping slightly on the tiptoppy points of her feet.

"Felicitaciones, bebé!" Angel hugged her friend and sat down beside Collins.

Mimi sat down beside Roger in giddy bounces. The two boys were still stunned.

"I think I'm going to try and find a better job today," Mimi said, changing the subject and pretending that their trip to Spain hadn't happened.

Angel clapped her hands in glee. "Good for you, Meems."

"I think I'll go with you, and bring my guitar," Roger said, forgetting about the Spanish that clouded his head.

Collins looked at Roger with a disbelieving look. "Rog, are you sick? Are you drunk?"

Collins lifted his hand up to Roger's head to feel for a fever, but his temperature was normal. He sniffed at Roger's clothes for traces of beer or drugs, but Roger's shirt was flowery fresh.

"So a woman is what gets you out of bed and out of this loft?" Collins teased, slapping Roger on the face.

"Not just any woman," Roger answered, causing Mimi to blush.

Then, the blonde newly bathed film maker stepped out of the bathroom.

"Aw, I thought it was the plumber," Mark mumbled rudely, caring no less that he was only wearing a towel around his waist.

Without a hello to Collins or Angel, he stormed into his room and banged the door behind him, stating that he didn't want to talk to anyone just yet. Fortunately, the couples understood.

"Now what?" Angel murmured reproachfully.

"Well we _were _doing something when you so rudely interrupted," Roger fumed, still mildly irritated that they had ruined his moment with Mimi.

Mimi, seeing this, rubbed his knee affectionately and telepathically said: its okay, Rog, later. Roger calmed down and laid his hand on top of his _girlfriend's _hand as a sign of okay

"How's about we go out to the fire escape, Gelly?" Collins suggested, seeing the young couple's wishes. "It's mighty stuffy in here."

"Si, mi amor. Let's go," Angel winked.

And with that, the Mimi and Roger were officially left alone in inside the loft, while Angel and Collins enjoyed the view from the fire escape.

"So…" Mimi started; running her hands in Roger's clean, newly cut locks.

"Where were we?" Roger asked playfully, already a centimeter away from Mimi's lips.

But just before their lips could touch again, another loud booming sound interrupted.

"Mother fucker!" Roger swore, meandering to the loft door.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?" he hissed, even before it slid open.

"Uh, plumber sir," a chubby man of 40 raised his reamers and pipe vises.

Roger pointed a trembling finger toward the bathroom, already unable to translate his anger into words. When the man had inched past in terror, Roger immediately ran to Mimi and sat down beside her.

"Hurry, before someone knocks again."

_Streets of Alphabet City: 1:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Do you want me to carry you?" Roger offered, stopping to appraise his girlfriend.

"No," Mimi laughed. "It's okay, Rog, I'm used to walking a lot."

"Oh yeah? Prove it," Roger sneered playfully.

"Shopping."

"Right."

"Besides, you can't manage me and your guitar," Mimi sang, walking ahead.

Roger gaped at her in shock. "Oh I think I can."

"No you can't," Mimi teased, turning around to face him and walking mockingly backwards.

"Oh yeah?" Roger challenged.

"You can't. You can nev…"

Mimi gave a small yelp as Roger scooped her up in his arms, proving in fact, that he could. Smartly, Roger hid the strap, which really held his guitar, underneath his black leather jacket. What Mimi didn't know couldn't hurt her, right? And if it could score him some points, well…

"See?" Roger said in his usual pompous manner, grinning widely.

"Okay, tough guy, you win," Mimi said. "Now put me down."

People had begun to stare at the young couple, and tourists could be heard muttering, "psscchh, New Yorkers." Roger didn't mind, and continued to carry Mimi along down the sidewalk, his guitar swinging behind him. Lucky for him, Mimi didn't notice.

"Where are you taking me, Roger Davis?" Mimi demanded, though in truth, she didn't mind being cradled like a baby in Roger's arms.

"The Life's just around the corner, baby. I think we should stop by and have some lunch first," Roger said, dodging a teenager on a skateboard. "Don't you think?"

Mimi smiled up at Roger at gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Okay."

What a sight that was for the people having lunch in the Life, to see a mid-20's man hurtling through the door with a young Latina in his arms. New York just couldn't get any weirder.

"Were sorry about the noise, there are some band auditions going on. Table for two?" a man with tousled jet black hair and glasses acknowledged the couple as they entered.

"Yes, please," Roger said absentmindedly, laying Mimi down. "Did you say band auditions?"

"Yes, they've booked half the café today. It's a pain to the ears I must say, they haven't gotten anyone decent yet," the man complained. "This way."

"Rog, this is your shot!" Mimi exclaimed, brushing some snowflakes from Roger's shoulders.

"I'm not sure…" Roger hesitated, tugging at his guitar strap nervously.

"What? Roger Davis is getting butterflies?" Mimi teased, smiling.

"I haven't practiced, or gotten anything good out of my head for months! You know that," Roger put on a disconcerted look.

"Nothing at all?" Mimi raised an eyebrow.

"Well… no. Except for…" Roger's voice trailed off.

"Except for what?"

"There's this song that suddenly popped in my head last night. You know, right at the moment we," Roger cleared his throat. "_Kissed."_

Mimi laughed and griped her boyfriend's arm tightly. "Is that why you ran off so quickly?"

"Yeah, I was afraid to lose it," Roger smirked. "And, I was kind of embarrassed for what I did."

Mimi laughed and Roger suddenly felt this whole new courage blossoming inside him. When he looked into Mimi's eyes, it was like there was nothing he couldn't do.

"So, are you up for it?" Mimi asked, biting her lip.

"As long as I get a good luck kiss first," Roger grinned.

Mimi gave him his wish and pushed him forward, removing his leather jacket. She gasped jokingly when she saw his guitar strap.

"You liar!" she accused good naturedly.

Roger just laughed.

"NEXT!"

The man who was holding the megaphone was, assumingly, the manager of the band. He was dressed in an expensive gray suit, possibly Armani, and though he was indoors, found it indispensable to keep his shades on. Sitting beside him were 3 Pre-Madonnas, suiting punk rock outfits complete with nose and ear piercing. One of them had a huge cobra tattooed on his right upper arm.

Roger and Mimi took seats on a nearby table and watched as a dork dressed in a tweed suit and jumpers walked up the small stage of the Life. He adjusted the microphone to his height (which was somewhat shorter than the height that a full grown man should be).

Already, the manager and band members were making disgusted faces. And more so did their faces scrunch up in abhorrence when the man began to play his electric guitar, which was too heavy for him.

"Uh, thank you," the manager said, after 1 minute.

"NEXT!"

Seeing that no one else came up the stage, Roger decided that it was time to go.

"NEXT! Are there anymore people?"

Mimi rubbed Roger's arm comfortingly before the musician stood up and walked over to the platform. He, also, adjusted the microphone, for he was way taller than the stumpy nerd before him.

"Hello?" Roger said into the microphone, shielding his eyes from the bright spotlight.

"Name please," the manager said, yawning.

"Roger," Roger began. "Roger Davis."

"Position played in the band?"

"Lead guitar," Roger cleared his throat. "Or vocals. Either or both."

Mimi saw the manager and the band members exchange impressed looks.

"Okay, Mr. Davis," the manager scribbled something down. "Show us what you got."

For a moment, Roger found his throat dry, and his fingers shaking. He couldn't seem to remember any words, chords, notes, anything. The four "judges" waited impatiently as Roger became deathly pale. He looked towards the one person whom he knew would calm him. Mimi's smile sent everything in his body back to shape.

_As long as you focus on her, Roger, you'll do great._

And so, that's what Roger did for his entire song. He adjusted his guitar and got ready to play. The judges put on _finally _looks.

"Sorry, this song's not done yet, I wrote it last night," he apologized in advance.

"This one's for you, Mimi," Roger said.

_Your eyes  
As we said our goodbyes  
Can't get them out of my mind  
And I find I can't hide  
From your eyes  
The ones that took me by surprise  
The night you came into my life  
Where there's moonlight I see your eyes  
I can't wait to live each day  
When I'm longing so to hold you  
Now I'd like to go back a day  
'Cause there's something  
I should have told you  
Yes there's something  
I should have told you  
When I looked into your eyes  
The ones I never want to cry  
You were the song all along  
And before this song dies  
I should tell you I should tell you  
I will always love you  
You can see it in my eyes_

It was like Roger could do no flaws when he played that song for Mimi. He looked longingly into her eyes and sang each word from the heart, dedicating it to her.

As Roger plucked the last notes with twinkling eyes, Mimi found herself tearing, but wiped them away when the whole café broke into applause.

Roger stepped back and out of his parallel world, where only Mimi existed, startled by the sudden applause. He nodded his head demurely toward the crowd, thanking them silently for their applause.

"BRAVA!" the manager stood up, clapping like mad.

"BRAVO!" the band members followed, jumping up and clapping widely as well.

Roger stepped down from the stage, and was immediately bombarded by the four judges.

"You're in! IN IN IN," the manager poked him on the chest.

"Well?"

Roger was speechless. "Okay…"

"Perfecto!" The manager eyed Roger's outfit with a tiny hint of contempt but his eyes riveted on Roger's classical guitar, hanging from his shoulder.

He frowned. "This will not do," he took the handle of the guitar and let it fall as if it were a smelly old sock. "Andrew, fetch the spare guitar, will you?"

"Right away sir!" the manager's possy declared, rushing out of the café.

"How long did it take you to write that song, man?" the guy with a huge cobra tattoo asked Roger.

"I don't know, it just came to me last night when I…"

"Mimi," Roger muttered, suddenly remembering.

He pushed past the three rockers, and came face to face with Mimi, who had nothing to show except pride and glee. Roger swung his guitar to his back and opened his arms to her. She quickly ran into them without hesitation.

"Roger! My God, that song… Did you really just write that in one night?" she blabbered on, nuzzling Roger's chest every now and then.

Roger put a finger to her lips to silence her. "I wrote it for you."

She bit her lower lip shyly before jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist. Roger twirled her around and around in sheer bliss.

"Can I have my congratulations kiss now?" Roger asked furtively.

"Ah – duh!" Mimi cried, almost surprised he even asked.

"Davis!" the manager called.

Mimi's smile turned upside down and Roger groaned. He put Mimi down with apologizing eyes and gave her a fast peck on the cheek. He walked over to his new manager with a certain swagger to his stride.

"What?" he muttered almost crossly.

"Why don't you try this on for size," his manager took no notice of his rudeness.

Instead, he handed Roger a metallic blue electric guitar, which caused his eyes to come out of their sockets. Without thinking twice, the musician grabbed the guitar.

"Mine?" he asked, eyeing the guitar.

"Yours," the manager smiled. "Welcome to the band."

_Mark and Roger's loft: 4 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"I was sick! Sorry!" Mark lied, phone up to his ear.

"Couldn't you have called or something?" his boss, Alexi, scolded.

"It slipped my mind," Mark lied again. In truth, he wanted others to suffer just as much as he was suffering. People tend to do that when they're lonely or depressed.

And like Mark was doing, they also tend to sit around all day in their boxers, eating mounds of junk and gallons of chocolate ice cream.

"Well, I have half a mind of firing you Mark Cohen. We have a whole 30 minutes to worry about filling in the show tonight because of YOU!" Alexi screamed through the phone.

Mark licked a slop of ice cream from his spoon. "So fire me," he dared.

"What?" Alexi's voice was threatening.

"Fire me," Mark repeated, not minding that globs of ice cream were sliding down his shirt.

"Don't try to make me feel like we need you, Mark Cohen."

"So fire me," Mark repeated for the third time.

Alexi gave an exasperated sigh of offense and screamed, "FINE! YOU'RE FIRED!"

"Good riddance," Mark mumbled, throwing the phone across the room.

And he went back to finishing his third container of chocolate ice cream. He looked around at all the junk he had devoured over the day – ice cream, potato chips, pizza – he had spent all his remaining money on trying to gorge himself to death.

_Knock knock._

"It's open!" Mark called, a mound of ice cream in his mouth.

_Knock knock._

"IT'S OPEN!" he yelled again.

_KNOCK KNOCK._

Mark got up and let the now empty container of chocolate ice cream fall to the floor. He didn't even bother to throw on a cleaner shirt, or wipe his mouth.

"What?" he snarled, letting the sliding door bang to the side.

"Mark! What happened to you?" Maureen cried, pushing Mark inside his apartment.

"Nothing," Mark grumbled. "I was just eating."

Maureen couldn't speak when she saw the junk that Mark had been eating. She threw an empty pizza box off the couch and sat down. Mark did the same, wiping his mouth with his forehand.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I couldn't find you last night. I thought…" Maureen's voice trailed off.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to be found?" Mark replied coldly.

"No… I mean," Maureen sighed. "I'm sorry, Marky."

"You didn't do anything," Mark bent his head. It was impossible for him to stay mad at Maureen.

She put her hand comfortingly on his knee. "I still love you."

Mark's heart sank. He loved her too, but probably not in the same friendly way she meant.

"I love you too, Maureen," he choked. And she kissed him on the cheek.

_BANG._

Both their heads turned toward the reverberating sound. Roger entered the loft, and though two guitars were hanging loosely from his neck, he carried Mimi in without difficulty. They seemed to be having a lot of fun, Roger kissing Mimi's neck as they entered.

Mark looked on in jealousy.

"Oh hey," Roger said, stopping suddenly when he saw his two friends.

"Hey guys," Mimi said between laughs, not being able to analyze the scene.

Roger put her down gently and then she realized what was going on. Both of them stood there in awkwardness for interrupting.

"How was the job hunting?" Mark tried to sound casual.

"I got in a band," Roger mumbled.

"And I'm officially a waitress at the Life," Mimi answered as well, squirming fitfully.

"We'll leave for a while," Roger said, reading his best friend's mind.

"No, no! I was just leaving," Maureen said with a grin.

She got up, with a pinch at Mark's cheek, and walked to the couple.

"Are you two…?"

"Wow," was all Maureen could say.

"Pretty much," Mimi answered, twirling her hair on her index finger.

"I think I'll go too, Rog," Mimi coughed.

"Okay, I'll visit you later babe," Roger said, leaning in to kiss her.

"Bye."

The two girls walked out of the apartment with conserved waves. And Mark and Roger were left in silence. Mark took off his stained chemise, revealing his muscle shirt. He then saw Roger's brand new electric guitar.

"You stole a guitar?" Mark asked condescendingly, pretending that Maureen hadn't been in the loft two minutes before.

"No," Roger scoffed, taking off both his guitars from his shoulder.

"My new band gave it to me."

"Oh," Mark snapped.

"I lost my job today, so you better bring in lots from that _band,_" Mark said the word as if it didn't exist in his vocabulary.

Roger shook his head and went into his room.

"AND YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THE TOILET!"

* * *

A/N: Should I keep Maureen and Joanne together? Or Mark and Maureen? Say it through reviews! XD Don't you guys just love Mimi and Roger? I'm falling in love. Haha. Hey, REVIEW! XD 


	5. Time Flies, Time Dies

Sorry! This one's going to be a bit sad. Keep the reviews coming! XD

Disclaimer: Rent is the brilliant work of the late Jonathan Larson. Dude, if you're reading this, you rock. XD

* * *

(Narrator's POV)

_Collins and Angel's Apartment: December 24, 1990, 9 am, Eastern Standard Time_

"Does this make me look fat?"

"Baby, don't ask me that," Collins replied, checking some papers.

Angel twirled around in her new skirt, we she had fashioned out of an old table cloth. It was pink with laces at the ends, and she had sewed on some sliver shiny stars.

"Why not?" Angel asked, pulling on some blue and white stripped stockings.

"You know I'll always tell you that you look great."

"That's why I always ask you!" Angel laughed, Collins joined in.

"Did you call the others about tonight yet?" Collins asked, placing a big fat F on one student's paper. Collins would not tolerate people who made fun of people with HIV like this kid obviously did through his essay. The paper was titled: "Why HIV positive victims should be excluded from society." (Me: HOW EVIL.)

"I told Meems yesterday, she's telling the others," Angel answered, painting her nails with her favorite blue nail polish.

"Can I invite Benny?" Collins asked, remembering his friend.

"Sure," Angel shrugged. "Why the sudden hospitality?"

"I heard he just had a huge fight with his wife. Even a yuppie scum like him shouldn't spend Christmas alone."

"You have one big heart, Thomas," Angel smiled.

"Colly," Angel cooed, snuggling up beside him. "Are you going to be grading papers all through Christmas break?"

"That's what Christmas break is for teachers," Collins joked, dropping his red pen.

"But it's Christmas Eve…" Angel pouted.

"Mmm… okay," Collins gave in, entrancing his arms around Angel. "What do you want to do?"

Angel deftly rid the table of all papers and pens with one quick motion. She sat on the table and crossed her legs insidiously. Collins eyed his students' papers all over the floor.

"What do you say?" Angel grinned seductively.

Collins leaned in and kissed her. "Okay."

"You want to clean up the papers first, don't you?" Angel teased.

"Yeah," Collins admitted with a comical sigh.

"I'll help you," Angel offered.

"I looovveee you," Collins sang.

"I love you too, Colly!"

_Benny's Office, Cyber Arts: 2 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Sir… I can't let you in!"

"Jesus, he used to be my best friend!" Collins shouted in the secretary's face.

"But you don't have an appointment!" the secretary argued, standing firmly in his path.

"Appointment my ass, woman!" Collins easily pushed her aside and stormed inside Benjamin Coffin the Third's office.

Benny looked up from his work with a start as Collins barged in.

"Why hello, Thomas. Long time no see," Benny greeted sophisticatedly.

"Benjamin," Collins cocked his head back pompously.

"I'm sorry boss, he claims he knows you," the secretary cowered by the door.

"It's fine, Lia, get back to work."

Benny stood up and gestured for a handshake.

"Heyyy Benny," Collins simpered, grabbing his friend in a hug which Benny awkwardly returned by patting his friend's back.

"Sit, please," he said.

"So, why are you here?" Benny inquired. "Having problems dealing with the rent? I can only lend you…"

"Shut up, Benny. Were all doing fine," Collins snapped.

"Oh, my apologies."

"I heard that you and Muffy…"

"Allison."

"Muffy," Collins ignored. "Had a fight."

"Yes," Benny hissed. "What's it to you?"

"For Christ sake's BENNY! What happened to you? I'm being NICE," Collins reprimanded.

"Sorry, sorry," Benny shook his head. "I haven't gotten sleep in days, and Christmas is…"

"Listen, Gelly is going to perform tonight in Drag's Palace," Collins interrupted. "I want you to go."

"Roger and Mark wouldn't want that," Benny said, but one could tell from his eyes that he really wanted to go and be with some friends on Christmas Eve.

"Screw those two," Collins scoffed. "Mark's drowning in self pity and Roger's head is up in the clouds."

"He's using again?" Benny raised an eyebrow.

"No, he's in _love._" Collins chuckled.

"Okay, I'll go," Benny agreed.

"8 o clock then, yuppie."

_Drag's Palace: 8 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"I'm not here, I'm not here," Mark grumbled, keeping his head low as if he didn't want to be seen out.

"You ARE here," Roger snapped, annoyed.

"I can't believe you made me go out," Mark shot Roger a look.

"Funny," Roger stroked his short beard, "That sounded like me three weeks ago."

"I'm convalescing, for heaven's sake!" Mark yelled.

"From what?" Roger declared unbelievably.

"From all that junk!"

"That was WEEKS AGO. Get over it!" Roger yelled back, stretching himself to his tallest height. "It's Christmas Eve, don't ruin it for me."

Mark showed no signs of weakness but backed away nevertheless. He didn't want to pick a fight with Roger, not here at least.

"Hey," someone said.

The two boys turned around and came face to face with their former roommate.

"What are you doing here?" Roger snarled.

"Collins invited me," Benny answered calmly.

"Well you better get your yuppie scum ass out of here before I…"

"Roger!"

The three boys spun around and met the rest of their friends. Everyone was readily dressed in party clothes, prepared to dance the night away. Mark couldn't help glancing over at Maureen and Joanne, though Collins was talking to him, and Roger was most concentrated on Mimi's outfit. He forgot all about Benny and kicking his ass.

"Why don't you wear this every day?" he teased, grabbing his girl friend by the waist.

"Angel said you would say that," Mimi laughed, tenderly kissing Roger.

"Where is the queen?" Roger asked, suddenly noticing that Angel wasn't present.

"Getting ready for her show, of course," Collins replied, hearing Roger's question.

"Benjamin Coffin the Third," Maureen exclaimed, seeing Benny. "The enemy of Avenue A."

"Look guys, I'll just leave if…"

"Be nice, bitches," Collins scolded. "It's Christmas Eve."

Everyone grumbled agreements and reluctantly greeted Benny.

"Hello, I don't believe I know…" Benny walked up to Mimi.

"Back off, scum," Roger growled.

"Rog!" Mimi slapped him on the arm. "I'm Mimi."

She shook Benny's hand and gave Roger a warning look.

"Crap," Maureen said, feeling a rain drop splatter on her forehead.

"We better go in."

So they all followed Collins through a set of double doors, heavily decorated with Christmas lights. A blinking neon sign above their heads read: Drag's Palace. Not much people were around since it was Christmas Eve.

"How's life in a band, Mr. Davis?" Mimi asked, surreptitiously sliding her hand through Roger's brown jacket and around his waist.

"Fine," Roger sighed. "We have some gigs planned this weekend."

"I thought we were going out this weekend?" Mimi asked sadly.

"I'm sorry, baby," Roger frowned.

Mimi kept her head bent, but smiled up at him after a while. "It's okay, I understand."

"I'll have next weekend all for you, okay?" he swore, holding his hand up.

"You better," Mimi teased.

They all sat down in a table especially reserved for them the front center part of the stage. A plaque on top of the table read: Reserved for Angel Dumott Schunard's family. Mimi smiled when she saw what was written.

"How's life at the Life, Meems?" Collins joked.

Mimi laughed and answered, "Great. All you need to do is hold a tray and take orders."

"I just have to wear this lame apron, though," Mimi laughed.

"Aprons turn me on, babe," Roger teased, his hand casually draped over Mimi's chair, and whispering into her ear.

"Really?" Mimi raised a seductive eyebrow.

"Maybe I should wear it more often then," she whispered back.

"We can hear you," Mark grumbled, still not out of his bad mood.

Mimi and Roger paid him no mind. But the others had to agree that it was getting too gross.

Suddenly, the lights of the bar dimmed and people began to cheer. The loudest applause came from the table where Angel's family sat. They watched in splendor as drag queens dressed in shimmering outfits shimmied across the floor in their own dance routines.

A loud voice boomed through the bar, "And now for the star of the show…"

"ANGEL DUMOTT SCHUNARD!"

The red curtains parted to reveal a very splendid-looking Angel seated atop an artificially made Christmas tree. She winked at her "family" before jumping up into her own dance routine.

"You're telling me you can dance like that?" Roger asked Mimi, having to shout over earsplitting music.

"Better! Angel taught me!" Mimi grinned.

Roger nodded his head in impression.

Suddenly, some off stage crew members pushed a set of wreath strung drums on stage, and Angel broke into an awesome drum solo.

"YEAH! GO GELLY!"

Collins whistled and shouted, "GO BABY!"

Then, without warning, there echoed shouts and people began standing up in shock. The boys muttered shits and ran toward the stage. Collins was glued to the spot as he saw the lifeless figure of his love, sprawled on the stage floor.

(Collins' POV)

I didn't really remember much after that. I think I fainted. But I wasn't actually out the whole time, I guess my brain just refused to take in anything at that time. According to the others, I staggered up to Angel and held her in my arms while crying my eyes out. They said I was screaming things at God and some crap about no time or too little time. I don't remember any of it.

All I know was that the next time my brain started storing things again, I was sitting in the hospital waiting room.

"WHERE IS SHE?" I screamed, banging my self against the front desk.

"WHERE IS SHE? TELL ME WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW!" I brought my fists down hard on the counter, feeling my tears already coming down.

"Sir, calm down," the woman said soothingly.

"NO! I want to see her!"

"Collins, man, calm down." I heard a voice but it sounded distant.

I felt three pairs of hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. I came face to face with Roger, Benny and Mark. They tried to shake me violently but I just pounded on their chests and demanded them to let go. But they were just stronger than me combined, so they were able to restrain me.

"Where is she? Where is she?" I found myself sobbing into Roger's shirt, as the musician wrapped his arms around me comfortingly.

"She's gonna be fine, Col. Just fine," he reassured, leading me to the seats to sit down.

Through my tears, I saw Joanne trying to comfort Mimi and Maureen, who were tearing profusely. Mark, Benny and Roger were sweating and trying hard to remain strong. I didn't care, I let myself cry.

30 minutes later, a doctor stepped out of Angel's hospital room, slowly taking his stethoscope off his neck. Seeing as I was too broken to stand and hear some news, Roger voluntarily went up to the doctor.

I saw him shaking his head and I knew just then and there that she was gone.

Roger walked to me and said, "I'm sorry, Col."

"NNNOOO," I shook my head and grabbed Roger's coat flaps. "No."

Roger pushed my hands away and grabbed me in another hug. Everyone else looked away, with tearing eyes. I shoved Roger away and ran into her hospital room, even if the doctors and nurses tried their hardest to stop me.

Roger and the others watched silently from the doorway.

I crumpled beside her bed and laid my head on her hand. It was so cold. I looked up at her face, pale and without make-up like I'd never seen it before. She had a smile on her face, though her eyes were closed.

Then there I knew that she was in a better place.

"I'll be with you soon, Gelly," I whispered, and softly kissed the side of her face.

"I love you."

And I cried myself to sleep beside her.

* * *

A/N: I hate myself for writing that. Angel-fans, I'm sorry times a billion! I don't know what got into me… I just wrote it. I promise I'm reincarnating Angel into this somehow, okay:( Crap, I'm really crying. Are you? Tell me through reviews. :( 


	6. Pretty Boy Front Man

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! XD Sorry again to Angel-fans. :( I know you're upset with me; I'll make it up to you somehow. Okay, you're not upset… you hate me. Ah, well.

BTW: Hope you liked Benny's little visit last chappie, I don't think he'll be showing up anymore in the story though, plot doesn't really include him. I'm already thinking of another story though… and he's definitely in that one. LOL. XD

Waitresses in Life in this chappie are dedicated to Softbelles people. :) Sorry if I couldn't mention everyone! Love you Softbelles. XD

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson is the man, I need not say more.

* * *

(Mimi's POV) 

_Mark and Roger's loft: October 10, 1992, 7 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

I can't believe two years went by so fast. Collins still hasn't come back from Santa Fe. According to him, he's not quite ready to go back to New York and remember everything. Angel's death bothered him too much.

Maureen and Joanne have been going on strong for two years, and so have Roger and I. Mark's not actually in a relationship right now, well, at least if you don't consider work as something you can say vows to. If you could, I bet Mark would've married his work ages ago.

After finishing his documentary about Angel 15 months ago, a filming agency offered him a job as a director of this new movie, which, he wouldn't tell us what it was about.

Roger's been touring a lot with his band, and they've gotten pretty known. You may think that were now living in a mansion of some sort, but Roger's 3 year starting contract only gives him about 1/10 of earnings. That's not a lot. Besides, he's told me that he could never leave the loft and find someplace better anyway.

I, on the other hand, have been working 4 days a week at the Life, 4 hours a day, making 5 dollars an hour. So I'm bringing in about 320 dollars in a month. That's not bad for someone who's supporting herself through college. Yes, I'm back in med school. Roger would hear no word of waiting another year, so that's where all his earnings really go. I haven't done enough to thank him yet.

Hey, Med school's hard.

"Crap, I forgot to write my paper," I muttered to myself, opening the door of the loft with the key that Roger had given me. I practically lived there these days.

No one greeted me when I entered, since the loft was empty, as usual. Why wouldn't it be with a film maker who's married his work and a rock star who has a gig almost every night?

I sighed and dropped my bag by the couch. I tied my hair in a half ponytail, like I always did when I studied. Then I got out my pen and a stack of bond papers I have conveniently in my bag, and began to work on a paper which I had due tomorrow.

Torturing minutes dragged on endlessly. I secretly wished Roger were there to distract me.

"Meems," I heard a voice from the doorway.

As if an answer to my prayers, I looked up and saw Roger leaning coolly against the wall. He had his rock star outfit on, which he always complained was tight and itchy. But when I told him I was rather fond of his black leather pants, he wouldn't take them off.

"Gosh Rog, you scared me! How long have you been there?" I smiled.

"For a little while. I just like watching you study. It's cute," he teased.

I dropped my pen and stood up with my hands on my hips.

"Why are you home early?" I asked, tapping my foot on the ground jokingly.

"Ouch. That's how it is now?" Roger asked, coming forward and dropping his blue electric guitar on the couch. "I thought you would be happy."

I didn't want to admit that I was. "Not if you interrupt me when I study."

"Oh?" Roger raised an eyebrow.

"Fine then, I'll just go inside my room and leave you alone," Roger said, walking away toward his room.

"Roger Davis, you confuse me," I started. "When I don't have anything to do and I worry my hair strands gray of wondering where you are, you come home after midnight. And when I'm here doing my work, that's when you show up. Great timing, pretty boy."

Roger slammed the door shut in my face. I smiled and walked toward the door, waiting for him to come out. It was just our habit to have these petty fights.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1.

The door burst open and Roger picked me up and kissed my tenderly on the lips. I brought my hands around his neck and started running my fingers through his unruly hair, which I loved so much.

"God, I've missed you," he panted, looking into my eyes. "When did we last see each other?"

"This morning," I laughed, kissing him again.

Roger brought me in his room and was about to shut the door when…

"And here we have Mimi Marquez and Roger Davis who, after slipping in sewer water, have been dating for 2 years. Yet, Roger hasn't gotten her in bed yet."

"For Christ's sake, COHEN!" Roger boomed, coming back out of the room.

"I was _about to!_" he cried, giving Mark his piercing eyes.

Mark lowered his camera and shook his head, "I guess I'm just meant to ruin it for you."

"Like shit," Roger mumbled. "How many times is it now?"

"6, if you count now, 7." Mark sneered.

"You're counting? Bloody son of a…" Roger stopped when I raised an eyebrow.

"Now I guess you don't want to," he said, almost hoping that that I still wanted to.

"Nope," I said, jumping down from his arms.

I sat down mockingly on the couch and began writing my paper again.

"I did, but the moment's gone."

"Camera's a big turn off," I added, winking at Mark.

"Mark Cohen you SON OF A…" Roger grabbed his heavier guitar from the couch and chased Mark out of the loft, in attempt to bash the instrument on his roommate's head.

"HOLY, ROGER!" Mark yelled, running away as fast as he could.

"You can't ever get someone like Mimi into bed! She's a good girl!" Mark tried to reason.

I just laughed and focused my attention back on the paper and pen I had laid out. I brought my heavy physiology volume from my bag and turned it to my desired chapter.

Roger came in a few minutes later and Mark followed, nursing his arm. I saw him muttering stuff but wouldn't dare let Roger hear. I gave him a sorry look, now wishing that I had just pleased Roger.

"Well I took care of that," Roger rubbed his hands together and sat down next to me.

"No one's going to be preventing anything in the future, eh, Mark?" Roger cast piercing eyes at Mark.

Mark shook his head obediently and sat down at the kitchen table with an ice pack over his upper arm. Roger flashed a triumphant smile in my direction and I answered by rolling my eyes.

"Hey look, messages," Mark said, pressing a button on the cheap answering machine.

_SSSPPPEEEAAAKKK._

_Yo bitches, Collins here. Just wanted to check on you guys, it's been weeks since I spoke with one of you. Crap, Rog! A band? Come on, did I have to be the last to know? Congrats, man, don't forget us little people when you make it big, eh! Meems, med school… wish I could think of something to say to help you there._

I snickered.

_Hey Mark, how's the wife? Haha, just kidding man._

Mark looked up and stuck his tongue out at the machine.

_I'll call back soon; I'm dying to talk to one of you. I'm even thinking of coming home for Christmas. Later._

toot

"There's another one," Mark announced.

_SSSPPPEEEAAAKKK._

_Hey guys, it's Joanne._

_And Maureen! _A far away voice declared.

_Baby, can you not? Ugh, and Maureen. _I could practically see Joanne's rolling eyes.

_Anyway, I know it's short notice but something important just came up and… We want to meet up at the Life Café tonight at around 8? Can you make it? Just call us if you can't. Rog, we know you're busy with your band, Mark with your wife…_

Roger burst out laughing. Mark made a wtf? look.

_And Mimi with your school work, but this is really important. Okay, see you… we hope._

toot

"It's 7:30," Roger said coolly. "Bathroom's mine."

Ignoring Mark's protests, Roger got up and shut the door to the bathroom. I rolled my eyes and decided to change in Roger's bedroom and skip the shower since I was feeling lazy. Hey, my place didn't have a decent bathroom anyway and I smelled okay.

I inserted my half finished report in my book and stuffed it in my bag. I ran as quickly as I could downstairs, grabbing a black strappy spag, a short pink skirt, my boots and my favorite leopard skin coat, and ran back to the loft.

Mark eyed me weirdly as I crept into Roger's bedroom.

"Shhh!" I put a finger up to my lips, before closing the door.

I quickly stripped and tried to pull on my clothes, but I was having a hard time untangling the laces of my top, so I took quite a long time. Mark was already banging on the bathroom door and yelling at Roger and I heard the shower close.

"You take as long in the shower as a woman, Rog," I heard Mark tease.

"Oh crap, sorry babe," Roger had walked in on me still in my underwear.

"Chill, Rog," I laughed, leaving my laces be and pulling on my skirt.

Roger still hadn't moved from the doorway.

"Come in," I said, urging him forward.

"Hmm, what I'd do to deserve this?" Roger asked, sitting beside me and bringing his hands around my waist. His hair was still dripping and it was creating a cute little puddle on the floor.

"Rog, we've been together for two years. I think that entitles you to seeing me in my underwear," I laughed, moving forward and running my hands through his wet hair.

Roger smirked. "Mark didn't let me blow dry."

"Are you going to stay in here?" Roger asked, seeing that I had made myself comfortable on his bed.

"Yes, problem?" I asked seductively.

"No, none at all," Roger grinned. "I just hope you know that I haven't got anything on under…"

"Yes, yes, I know," I laughed, turning around on his bed to give him little privacy. "Go on."

"Oh, and wear that khaki colored polo, you look hott in that."

_The Life Café: 8:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Orders, loves?" a waitress in a pink apron and eye blinding blue boots walked up to the table.

"Oh hello Mimi," she said, when she saw me sitting pretty with Roger's arm draped around me.

"Hey Kamille," I answered, smiling.

"3 miso soups, 2 tofu dogs and 1 jumbo plate pasta," Joanne said.

"Is that all?" Kamille asked, blowing a huge gum bubble and popping it back inside her mouth.

"Kam, can you thank Ly and Celine again for taking my shifts today?" I asked in my sweetest voice.

"Sure, honey," Kam said, walking off in her sparkly blue boots.

Food arrived in minutes, seeing as the chef knew me and so he took priority in cooking our food. Everyone dug in immediately, while chatting nonstop.

"So Collins is the only one missing," Maureen said sadly, obviously missing the man.

"He said he might be coming home for Christmas," Mark said, twirling some spaghetti on his fork.

"Oh, perfect!" Joanne said without thinking. "We can have it earlier then."

"Have what earlier?" I asked, eyeing the couple.

We all watched Joanne grip Maureen's tightly and sit there with broadly grinning faces. Thouh I swore I saw a trace of nervousness and distress in Maureen's eyes, I shook it off.

"Well guys…" Joanne started.

"Were getting married during Christmas time," Joanne said, looking at Maureen and grinning widely.

"WHAT?" the three of us said at the same time.

"You're getting married?" we asked in chorus again.

"They're getting married!" we said to each other.

Hugging and kissing and congratulations took place. I even saw Mark go over to the couple and give them both his best wishes. It's a good thing Mark got over him and Maureen ages ago. But something in me still believes that he still loves her. And she the same way.

"5 beers!" Maureen called.

"Whoa, wait I ain't…" I stopped when I saw Maureen and Joanne's faces.

"If were celebrating, I guess one glass won't hurt," I said, grinning.

"I'll finally get you drunk, Meems," Roger whispered slyly.

"It's one glass, Rog. What can happen?"

Well apparently, my time off the beer and drugs had affected my vice-immune system. After finishing only ¾ of my glass of beer, I was dropping and moaning like a sack of oranges. Though no one knew it, I was vomiting a little every time I took a swig.

"Meems, you okay?" Roger asked, seeing my droopy eyes.

"Fine, baby," I replied groggily, laying my head on his shoulder.

"No you're not fine," Roger said, lifting my chin and looking at me.

"How many glasses did you drink?" he asked, feeling my neck.

"Three fourths of one," I snorted.

"Okay, were getting you out of here."

Before I knew it, Roger had said apologies to Maureen and Joanne, and the couple said that it was no problem. The gang decided to split up already, since it was getting kind of late. Roger cradled me in his arms again and brought me home as fast as he could, Mark trailing along behind and trying to catch up with Roger's strides.

"Rog, Mimi's place is this way," I heard Mark say.

Roger, who was apparently going up, answered, "I can't take care of her there."

Next thing I knew, I was being laid down on Roger's bed – which was actually a worn out mattress on an iron bed frame. I heard him shut the door and bustle about. I watched his silhouette remove his puke-stained polo (compliments of me) and throw it aside.

I felt the bed creak as Roger slipped in the sheets, without a top.

"Rog?" my voice cracked.

"Shhh, baby. Sleep," he said, bringing the blanket up to my neck.

I felt Roger's bare front against my back, and his arm slip slowly around me, as if protecting me from any harm. I smiled.

"Maybe I should get drunk every night," I said.

"Don't!" Roger cried instinctively. "It's not good for you."

"No, I mean Rog… So we can do this every night," I reassured.

"Oh," Roger laughed quietly. "Then why don't you?"

"Get drunk every night?"

"No, I mean… Move in with me," he said.

I turned my head to face him in the dark, expecting to see a joking face, but his expression was serious and solemn. I kissed him quick on the lips before turning back around. I knew that he knew I meant okay.

"Do it tomorrow morning," he said, running a finger lovingly down my back.

"Hmmm, okay," I said, and drifted off to sleep.

(Narrator's POV)

_Mark and Roger's loft: October 11, 1992, 11 am, Eastern Standard Time_

Mimi awoke the next morning to find the bed empty, and sunlight pouring through her window. With a yawn and a stretch, she kicked off the sheets and staggered clumsily toward the bedroom door. Her head hurt insanely and she needed an aspirin. Unsuccessfully being able to get to the door without stumbling, she sat back down in bed and laid her head on the pillow.

A few minutes later, Roger came in, already in his "work attire," and sat down on the bed.

"Hey baby, you awake?" he asked softly, running his fingers along her hair.

Mimi turned over and looked up at him with drooping eyes.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Roger answered with a smile.

"I brought you an aspirin, and made you breakfast," he said, gesturing towards a tray on the bed.

It was heavy laden with breakfast foods, eggs, hotdogs, pieces of toast, orange juice, and sure enough, an aspirin tablet. There was even small container of grape jelly, which Roger knew she loved. Mimi remembered Angel when she saw this, it was her favorite too.

Mimi, smelling the delicious aroma, sat up and planted a big wet kiss on her boyfriend's lips. He sat there, stunned.

"Wow," he said.

Mimi laughed and choked down her aspirin tablet with some juice. Then, she began eating ravenously, the dishes Roger had prepared for her.

"Baby, I packed all your stuff in the boxes this morning and all you have to do is find a place for them in the loft," Roger said, staring at her eat.

"It won't be easy," he smiled.

Mimi just nodded, toast and egg in her mouth. Luckily, she didn't have any classes today.

"Mark's not around, he left at like 7 am. At least you won't have to worry about him," Roger said.

"Are you leaving?" Mimi asked with heartrending eyes.

"Yeah," Roger answered with a sigh. "Sorry."

"I'm gonna be lonely," she said, kneading her hands into Roger's chest as if tempting him not to leave. She put on her irresistible look.

"Baby, I really have to go," Roger said, touching Mimi's face. "But you won't be alone."

"Is Maureen coming over?" Mimi asked, unsure of what he meant.

"No, she's not," the musician laughed. "I got you a present."

He blew into his fingers and made a shrill whistling sound. In seconds, a cute brown-black haired Yorkshire terrier came bounding through the door. In one leap, he got up on the bed and started licking Roger's hand profusely.

Mimi dropped her spoon.

"Oh my God! He's so cute!" she cried, stealing the puppy away from Roger.

"It's a she," he corrected, grinning.

Mimi rubbed the puppy's head and it scratched mildly at her leg affectionately. Then, it started sniffing around the breakfast food on the tray. She ignored everything except the grape jelly, which she started licking.

Mimi didn't mind.

"I think she'll keep you occupied," Roger said.

"You have to think of a name though," he added.

They both watched as the puppy intelligently got the jelly out of the container and started licking it up in parts. Roger and Mimi just laughed.

Mimi spent the rest of her day unpacking her junk and finding a place for them in the loft. With all Roger and Mark's junk laying about, it was quite difficult. Roger was right on that, and on the fact that Mimi's brand new puppy did keep her busy.

She was a very affectionate, curious dog, who would go exploring all around her new home and leave presents for Mimi all over the floor. But all in all, Mimi loved her. Strange as it seemed, the dog reminded her of her best friend, Angel.

"Finished! Good job, eh?" Mimi declared, sprawling herself on the couch beside her puppy.

"And you didn't make it easier," Mimi cooed, tousling the puppy's hair.

"How about some grape jelly to celebrate?" she asked, getting up and looking for another cup of her favorite dessert.

The puppy barked and stood up on its hind legs, wagging its tail like mad. Mimi laughed and brought down two containers of grape jelly. One for her, and one for her new friend. She laid it on the floor and the puppy jumped down immediately and began to lick it.

Mimi enjoyed her dessert while finishing the paper she had due for class tomorrow. After 30 minutes or so, a finished report and 4 more containers of grape jelly (puppy ate 2), Roger came bounding through the door, looking tired.

"Hey baby," he smiled.

Mimi ran immediately into his arms and kissed him. The puppy joined in by licking Roger's foot.

"You've got competition," he joked, looking down at the puppy.

"Have you thought of a name?" he asked, walking in and dropping everything on the couch.

"Yup. Gelly," Mimi said, smiling.

"I can see why," Roger laughed, eyeing the pile of grape jelly containers.

"Gelly with a G, Rog," Mimi added, hoping he would get the hint.

"Oh," Roger smiled at Mimi. He got the significance of the name. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed loudly.

"I miss her so much, Rog," Mimi said, referring to her best friend.

"I do too, baby," he said, kissing her head. "I do too."

He kissed her on the lips for the longest time, only to be interrupted by Gelly's barks. The couple watched as the dog intelligently pointed its snout toward the bedroom.

"That dog is hella smart," Roger commented, looking into Mimi's eyes. "Should we follow it?"

"I think we should probably do what she says, Rog," Mimi answered, smiling.

And so Roger carried Mimi into his bedroom, following Gelly's orders. Not once did Roger ever regret that he had bought that dog.

"Hey Meems, Rog…"

But Roger shut and locked the door on Mark before he could ruin any more moments.

* * *

A/N: Wanna see how Gelly looks like? Go to google and search yorkshire terrier puppies, scroll to the bottom of the page... on the last line: the 3rd pic from the right. She looks like that, but the onewith a bow. :) I just love Yorkshire terriers! XD Don't you? 

Poll: Is my way of reincarnating Angel okay?

a. Yup, I feel good that a part of Angel is in this thing again.

b. It's okay, but I'm not satisfied.

c. NO. I hate it. I hate you for killing Angel.

Poll 2: Is Gelly a good name for this dog?

a. Yes

b. No

c. Maybe

Answer through reviews, foos! And suggest some names if you don't like it. XD


	7. Take Me Or Leave Me

This chappie usually happens in rent fics. But I still love it. XD Review, loves. Roger and Mimi love you if you review. XD

About Mo and Jo (that is so cute) and Mo and Marky… the votes were mostly tied. So I pick. XD

Disclaimer: I owe my thanks and gratitude to Jonathan Larson for creating my favorite movie and broad way couple, Meems and Rog. :)

* * *

(Narrator's POV)

_Mark, Roger and Mimi's loft: November 17, 1992, 10 am, Eastern Standard Time_

Mimi woke up in an empty bed with her stomach feeling queasy. Without warning, she felt her previous day meals churn around and rise up her throat. She ran to the bathroom and puked into the toilet, trying to hold her hair back.

"Shucks, Meems, what's the matter?" Mark cried, running up to the bathroom door.

"Must've eaten something bad last…"

Mimi puked more into the bowl, while Mark scrunched his face up in disgust. He threw the toast that he was nibbling on in the trash can.

All through out the morning, Mimi would go into the bathroom and puke.

"Meems, go see a doctor. Pasta at the Life disagreed with me once, but I didn't puke that much," Mark said, grabbing his coat.

"Maybe I will," Mimi said, wiping her mouth with a tissue.

"Don't tell Roger, okay?" she asked. "I don't want him worrying."

"You got it. See you!" Mark called, disappearing from the loft.

_Hospital check up room, 1 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"WHAT?"

"Yes, that's right. I take it you weren't planning it?" the doctor asked from behind his desk, peering at Mimi through his gold framed spectacles.

"No, I – we – weren't," Mimi answered, gulping in horror.

"Well, in that case, congratulations," the doctor said, writing something on a paper.

"Are you going to keep it?" he asked, looking up.

Mimi couldn't think, nor could she move any muscle of her body. This was a nightmare. What would Roger say? Would he leave her?

"Maybe, I don't know," Mimi said, standing up and clutching the bottom of her sweater.

Mimi looked down at her stomach, something was living inside her. She was actually helping someone to live. Then and there she decided that she would keep it, no matter what happened.

"Yes, I probably will."

"Excellent," the doctor said. "It's going on very healthy Mrs?"

"Miss."

"Miss Marquez," the doctor corrected himself, glancing at his records.

"Now since you have HIV, we wouldn't want the baby getting it, so you are to take these as prescribed," the doctor handed Mimi a bottle of medicine and a paper with instructions.

"So the baby can get it?" Mimi asked, suddenly saddened.

"Yes. There's an 80 chance," the doctor gave a sad frown.

"The father doesn't have the disease… does he?" the doctor asked.

"He does," Mimi choked, trying to hold he tears back.

"Then there's a very great chance that the baby will have it, Ms. Marquez."

Mimi's tears were brimming dangerously on the edge of her eyes. How could she do this to this baby? They practically robbed it of a healthy life. Why? Why?

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, seeing Mimi's look. "Will you be okay, Ms. Marquez?"

"It's fine. I'm fine," Mimi said, walking to the door.

"Come back in one month!" the doctor called.

Mimi was too upset to even hear.

_Mark's Movie Shoot: 1 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"CUT!"

"Gabrielle, I need more from you. You love him, though it's just the first time you've seen him. Try and act the part, will you? True love doesn't come everyday!" Mark lectured through his megaphone.

"Miguel, same goes for you! MORE!" Mark demanded. "More connection! Look into her eyes. She has very beautiful brown eyes, Miguel. MIGUEL! Are you listening?"

"Yes, Markus, I'm listening," the dirty blonde snapped.

His leading lady giggled beside him, as she picked up the props she was supposedly to "drop" and put them inside the box she had to be carrying.

"Ugh, I need a break. EVERYONE TAKE FIVE!" Mark shouted.

Everyone sighed with relief and left their posts. Mark's camera man gave him a hard pat on the shoulder before running off to the food table. Mark sat down on his director's seat and fumed over the amateur actors he had cast. No one seemed to capture the true essence of the scene, and the movie, for that matter.

"Maybe I should just let Roger and Mimi act," Mark mumbled pensively to himself. "I mean it is their story."

"Marky!" a voice echoed through and interrupted his thoughts.

Mark cocked his head back and spotted a lady with ginger hair running to him from a distance. No one could mistake that skeleton spray painted top.

"Mo, what you doing here?" Mark asked, meeting his friend.

"Joanne's driving me nuts, Marky!" Maureen cried. "I went to your apartment but it was empty."

"Wedding's OFF!" she cried, slicing the air with her arm.

"Calm down, Mo. Tell me what happened. Did you fight again?" Mark asked, letting her sit on his director's chair. (He never let anyone sit on it)

"No, we didn't. She's just getting too annoying, Marky!" Maureen said, her face all red.

"Relax, Maureen. You always have these fights. The wedding will be on again tomorrow," Mark reassured, running his hand up and down Maureen's arm.

"NO. I don't want it to!" Maureen pouted.

"You're just saying that 'cause you're upset."

"No I'm not," she argued.

"Yes, you are."

"NO I'M NOT."

"Then why are you saying that?" Mark sneered, attempting to get the performer to smile again.

"Because I'm in love with somebody else!" Maureen spat without thinking.

She put a hand to her mouth seconds too late. Mark raised an eyebrow at her and she sufficed with an embarrassed smile.

"Who are you in love with, Mo?" he asked.

When Maureen didn't answer and just looked into his eyes, he realized why she was there. He – Mark Cohen - was the reason why she couldn't pull through with the wedding.

"Mo," Mark said calmly, lifting Maureen's face to meet his gaze.

The performer was tearing a little, but Mark just smiled at her. Then he kissed her on the lips like he'd never done before and told her that he loved her. She did the same.

_Mark, Roger and Mimi's loft: 2 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

Mimi came in with tearstained cheeks and glowing eyes. Though Gelly would've normally cheered her up, the dog's consistent wagging of tail and desire to play just made Mimi feel worse.

She sat down in the kitchen and cried her eyes out on the table. Gelly, being the smart dog she was, sensed something was afoot and walked between Mimi's legs, rubbing herself on them affectionately. When her efforts were in vain, she ran into Roger's room and searching for something to play with, spied a photograph underneath the bed.

She ran out with it and laid it at Mimi's feet.

"What's that Gelly?" Mimi sniffed, looking down at the paper lying at her feet.

She picked it up and found that it was a photo of a woman with auburn hair and fiery dark brown eyes. Confused, she turned the photo over for an answer but only found a name scrawled on the back in Roger's chicken-like hand writing.

"Where'd you find this, Gelly?" Mimi asked, wiping her tears.

The puppy barked and pointed its snout towards Roger's bedroom.

"Our bedroom?" Mimi asked.

The dog wagged its tail and barked in reply. Strangely, Mimi could always understand the dog. She seemed to be the only one who could. Mark didn't get along with her very well.

"Who is this?" Mimi muttered.

_BANG._

"Hey Meems," Roger greeted, coming forward to kiss her.

He stopped dead on his tracks when he saw what she was holding.

"Roger, who's this?" Mimi asked, her eyes glazed with fear.

"Where did you get that?" Roger demanded, snatching the photo from Mimi's grip.

"Gelly found it," Mimi replied, feeling her tears surfacing once more.

"Who is it?" she asked again.

Roger looked at her with a blank expression. "You don't need to know." He turned around and was about to walk out of the loft.

"Roger, don't lie to me. Who is she?" Mimi's tears flowed down her cheeks.

Roger slowly turned back toward the kitchen table and at his girlfriend. He sighed and went forward to her, stroking her hair. Mimi found herself crying into his shirt.

"Shhh, it's okay baby. Don't cry," Roger soothed.

He looked at the picture of the woman with auburn hair for the first time in 2 years. Almost had she been erased from his memory when Mimi came, but now he seemed to remember everything about her, and what had happened before.

Mimi's tears soaked through his shirt, and he felt guilt.

"It's April," he finally answered. "She was my girlfriend."

* * *

A/N: Common chappie. XD hope it wasn't boring. I felt it was way boring. XD

Poll: Adam Pascal is hott.

a. HELL YEAH.

b. NO, EW!

c. Yes.


	8. Another Chance, Another Day

Teehee, everyone has been reviewing constantly… I give you all the REVIEWER OF THE WEEK AWARD! Yippee:) And I will give more awards to people who review a lot. XD

This one's got April in it. Some fluff too. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: If Jonathan Larson told me in a dream that I could partly own rent (even for like 1/100 share), that would be TOTALLY WICKED. XD

_

* * *

_

Fire Escape: 3:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time

"Hurry up and tell me," Mimi was feeling better.

"Jesus, Mimi," Roger cried. "A minute ago you were sobbing your eyes out and now your demanding too much of me. Are you having mood swings or what!"

_I have a good reason. And it's partly your fault, _Mimi thought.

"Sorry. Just tell me when you're ready," Mimi apologized, stroking Roger's hand.

Roger sighed. "Thank you."

Silence.

"Now?"

"MIMI!"

"Sorry, sorry. If you told me, I'd stop bugging you."

_Pregnancy really gets the hormones acted up, doesn't it?_

"Okay, fine," Roger gave in.

-FLASHBACK TIME-

_On that one fateful day _(drama sucks) _Roger got up in his usual normal fashion, sneaking out to make April breakfast in bed. _(Mimi: you do that for me. Roger: Shhh, don't interrupt.) _He didn't know that it would be the last time he would ever do it._

"_Surpirse, baby," Roger said, slipping in the bed and letting the aroma of breakfast sneak up April's nostrils._

"_Mmm. I still get surprised even if you do it almost every morning." April said, kissing Roger long on the lips._

(Mimi: By the way, I had no idea you could cook. Roger: I can if there are instructions on the box. Collins is the real cook. Mimi: I can't cook for my life. Roger: Yeah I know, the things you cook taste like shit. Mimi: Hey…! Rog! Roger: For heaven's sake, Mimi, let the narrator finish her story! Me: THANK YOU.)

_Roger laughed and watched April eat. Roger didn't notice, but April took longer than usual, savoring every bite because she knew it would be her last. When she finished, she kissed Roger on the lips again – she needed it as much as possible._

"_You going anywhere today?" he asked._

"_I'm going to pull an extra shift at the Life" she lied. "You?"_

"_Got a gig later."_

"_Oh."_

"_I'll pick you up at 6 in the Life for dinner, okay?" Roger smiled._

"_Okay," April frowned slightly._

"_I'll let you change…" Roger said, tiptoeing out of the room with the tray in his hands._

_He washed the dishes with a happy tune escaping his lips; he even danced a little, swaying his hips from side to side. _(Roger: You didn't have to mention that part. Me: You're cute when you dance. Mimi: I agree. Roger: Oh, shut up.) _Nothing could ruin his day today. Not even the bad weather that was cooking up from the gray clouds outside his window._

_He felt the tiny box he had picked up the previous night in his right jeans' pocket. He had spent a lot on that ring._

(Mimi: Shit, Roger. Don't tell me you were going to propose. Roger: Errr. Me: Yes he was. Roger: Aww, Christ. Mimi: You NEVER told me about this. Me: Can I continue? Mimi: PLEASE.)

_April came out a few minutes later wearing the outfit she had worn when she had met Roger. Roger, being the forgetful man he was, couldn't remember and thus, didn't notice._

"_Are you dancing?" April asked slyly, walking up and bringing her arms around his waist._

"_Yeah, and for once, I'm not ashamed," Roger replied, spinning around to face her._

"_Come, let's go out to the fire escape, I have to ask you something," Roger said, leading her outside._

"_Roger, you're scaring me, what is it?" April laughed, once outside._

_But before Roger could pop the question, rains began pouring down from the heavens in sheets. Roger cursed but April let the drops meet her face._

"_I've always wanted to dance in the rain," she mumbled._

"_What? Are you crazy? You'll get sick!" Roger cried incredulously, trying to shield himself._

"_Let's just say I have this list of things to do before I die that includes dancing in the rain," April said, grinning._

"_You're one crazy bitch, you know that?"_

"_I know."_

_April ignored Roger's attempts to get her inside, and instead, rushed down all stairs of the fire escape and out into the street. People under umbrellas gaped at her as if she had just escaped the mental hospital._

"_Come down, Roger!" she called, turning around in circles with her arms spread up to the sky._

"_NO! Are you drunk?" Roger called back from the top floor, already drenched._

"_Please! FOR ME?" April begged. "This is the last thing on my list!"_

_Roger sighed and went down the steps two at a time. He would do everything to please her today. This was a special day. April jumped into his arms the moment he got down._

_Roger laughed, and without thinking, spun around in circles under the pelting rain, with April in his arms. He could never forget the way she looked that day – beautiful – despite her soaked body, and laughing carelessly, spreading her arms out like a bird as if she were free._

_Suddenly, he ceased, and overwhelmed by the way he felt, kissed her on the lips. The kiss seemed to wake April up and remind her of reality. She mustered a weak smile when he pulled away._

"_Roger," she began._

"_Yeah?"_

"_If I died, would you love again?" April asked._

"_You will never die," Roger said firmly._

"_I said IF, Roger."_

_Roger sighed, "I don't think I would be able to."_

"_Why not?"_

"_I love you too much."_

"_ROGER," April said vehemently. "If I die, I want you to promise me that you will love again, no matter what."_

"_Why are you asking me this, April?" Roger tried to laugh._

"_Just promise."_

"_I can't promise something I know I won't be able to do," Roger replied honestly._

"_You have to do it. For me," April said, crying._

_Luckily, her tears weren't visible through the rain._

"_Okay, I promise, for you."_

"_I love you, don't you forget that," April said._

"_I love you too, April."_

_They walked out of the rain together, April having the last thing on her list checked. April didn't even bother to change into dry clothes when Roger had left for his gig._

_She did what she had to do._

_Roger went to the Life at 6, dressed in a tux and carrying a bouquet of flowers. He was to take April to the best restaurant in town, then ask her to marry him. But at the Life, he found that she wasn't there._

"_Yo, Aggie, where's April?" Roger asked a waitress whom he knew April was close to._

"_She doesn't have a shift today," Aggie eyed Roger's expensive suit._

"_She said she was working an extra one today."_

"_Not in my knowledge," Aggie answered, scooting off._

_Odd. How very odd. Had honest April lied for the very first time to Roger? No, it couldn't be. That was when Roger began feeling that something was wrong. Despite his tight outfit, he managed to run all the way to the loft in a matter of minutes._

"_APRIL?" he cried, setting down the roses on the table._

_No reply._

"_APRIL! ANSWER ME!" Roger yelled._

_His eye caught the bathroom door, pale light pouring out from its edges. He ran up to it and found it locked. He banged on the door and repeated her name over and over. Impatient, he kicked the door open and froze at what he saw._

_Lying on the floor in a pool of blood was his girlfriend, a kitchen knife lying beside her. Roger ran…_

(Roger: You can stop now; I'll take it from here. Me: But I was on a roll! Roger: I think Mimi needs to hear it from me. Me: I need to hear that from her. Mimi: Yeah, he should tell me. Me: Fine, be that way. Abandons computer)

-END OF FLASHBACK-

"What happened after that Roger?" Mimi asked, crying softly.

"I don't remember much. I only remember certain scenes," Roger said, rubbing his temple as if that would get him to remember.

"There was a note taped on the bathroom mirror… the only three words on it were: We've got AIDS," Roger shook his head.

"I had her in my arms, I held on to her crying my soul out," Roger narrated. "Mark came. He told me that I was telling the Lord to take me and bring her back. He said that he had walked in on me about to plunge the knife April had used into my heart. Mark said he tried to stop me, but all I wanted was to die with April right then and there."

Roger brought his head down on Mimi's hand.

"I never thanked Mark enough for stopping me."

"Roger," Mimi laid her head on top of his. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, I didn't tell you," Roger said, stroking Mimi's hair.

Mimi looked down onto the street, watching homeless people find a place to sleep, dragging their cardboard box beds everywhere. She couldn't imagine a life like theirs, most especially not in the loving presence of Roger. When he held her in his arms, she felt safe from all danger.

"Rog… I have to tell you something," she closed her eyes when she said it.

"Okay, baby. After how you listened to me, anything," Roger said.

"You promise you won't freak out or run away or get angry?" Mimi said, like a child who'd done something bad like break her parents' brand new VCR.

"I promise."

Mimi held her stomach and looked him in the eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Roger stood up on two feet in a jump.

"You said you wouldn't get angry!" Mimi whined, feeling tears again.

Roger raised a brow at her.

"I don't care if you don't want it, I decided a while ago that I'm keeping it…"

Mimi ceased in mid-sentence only to find Roger's lips against hers. Never before had he kissed her so gently – so – passionately.

"This is the greatest news I've heard since you told me you love me," Roger said, kissing Mimi once again. The impregnated woman wept tears of joy.

He scooped her up in his arms and brought her inside the loft, where, surprisingly Mark was just coming in, carrying Maureen in the same way.

"This is awkward," Mark said, seeing us.

"Time for me to ruin your moment, Cohen," Roger teased, unable to keep his lips off of Mimi's. He slowly made his way to her stomach and kissed it.

"Daddy won't let anything happen to you," Roger said.

Mark and Maureen, thinking that Roger was talking to something else, shouted "EW!" at the same time and were immediately turned off. They ran out of the loft crying, "We don't want to know!"

Mimi and Roger laughed and Gelly barked happily.

* * *

A/N: April died the same way she did in the other fics and how she died according to the play. XD I just added some fluff, you know. Did you like it? The list part is from my own experience – I have my own list. I also want to dance in the rain with someone special some day. :) Maybe Adam Pascal, but that's impossible. LOL.

Spolier: Collins is coming back after the next chappie! XD But another one of our favorite bohemian friends will disappear. Big twist:)

Poll: April and Roger or Mimi and Roger:)


	9. You Were The Song All Along

_Memory all alone in the moonlight… _sings Oh, wrong musical. LOL XD

Rosario, how was it like kissing Adam?

Rosario: Oh, damn good.

Adam: making faces and keeping quiet

LOL. I love those two so much. XD

I love this chappie more than anything:) hope you guys will love it enough to review. XD

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Disclaimer: I do NOT own rent… dammit. XD

_The Life Café: November 29, 1922, 1:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Why not?"

"It's too simple!" Roger bellowed for at least the 5th time that day.

"What's not simple to you, Davis?" Mark cried.

Roger paused. "I don't know."

"What about you bring her to the top of the Chrysler Building – blind folded - and have it all decorated then propose to her at sunset! It's beautiful there at sunset," Joanne suggested.

Roger made a disgusted look. "It's…"

"TOO SIMPLE! WE KNOW, ROGER!" everyone yelled at him.

"Why don' we just summon magical leprechauns, dwarves and fairies and get them to magically transport you to the top of the Statue of Liberty where hundreds of men wearing the same stuck up outfits are playing the tuba and some people are letting rose petals fall from the air. Then a giant appears out of no where and bellows to the world that you, Roger Davis, want to marry Mimi Marquez, then would that be a good proposal?" Maureen panted.

Roger remained silent. "Do you know any giants?"

Everyone groaned.

"You really do have a kick-ass imagination, don't you… baby?" Mark asked Maureen.

"And proud of it!"

"So… how am I going to do it?" Roger complained.

"Do what?" Mimi came up to the table with a tray on her head.

"Nothing!" the whole table immediately answered.

"You guys get weirder by the minute," Mimi laughed and walked off.

_Mark, Roger, Mimi and Maureen's loft: December 7, 1992, 6 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

Roger twirled the ring effortlessly around his finger. It was the same ring he was supposedly to give April back then. Now, it was for Mimi. But he still hadn't thought of a good enough way to propose to her!

"You look like a photo in a postcard sitting up there like that, pretty boy."

Mimi smiled at Roger from the doorway, her hands folded across her chest. The musician immediately inserted the ring inside his jeans' pocket before he could see.

"He-ey," he stammered, afraid she had seen.

"Hey yourself," she took a seat beside him and coolly laid her head against his chest.

"What're you doing up here?"

"Mmm, thinking," half true.

"About what?"

"About how beautiful you are."

Mimi slapped him on the shoulder in embarrassment.

"Okay, what do you want?" she laughed and looked up at him with twinkling eyes.

"Honestly?"

"Yeah, what do you want?"

Roger looked up at the buildings which surrounded Alphabet City and how they bathed in the setting sun, so now they seemed to have halos. All this time he'd been fretting of how to propose to Mimi in an expensive, over ornate way and here he was, feeling that this was the right time to do it.

(Me: IN THE FIRE ESCAPE? For crap's sake, Davis! Roger: It's just the perfect time. Me: Okay, okay pretty boy, I won't argue. Roger: Thank you, now let me get on with it. Me: with pleasure.)

"I want you to marry me," Roger said, not thinking of the other things which clouded his mind.

"What?"

"I want you to marry me," Roger repeated.

"You're serious that's what you want?" Mimi asked, sitting up and staring at him as if he were crazy.

"No."

"Roger Davis if you're…"

He kissed her and slid the ring on her finger.

"It's not what I want, it's what I need," he smiled.

Mimi threw her arms around him and he kissed her for the longest time.

"Damn you, Davis," Mimi said, finally pulling away with tears in her eyes.

"What did I do?"

"'It's what I need'" she imitated him. "My ass." She was prompting another one of their petty fights.

"I don't ever want to fight with you ever again," Roger shook his head. "At least not now, okay?"

Mimi was shocked. Then he kissed her again for an even longer time than before.

"BEERS! WINE! CIDER!"

"Someone get SOMETHING to celebrate!" Roger cried.

"I'll call Joanne!" Maureen shouted.

"I'll call Benny!" Mark yelled.

Roger was too happy to even care that Mark was going to call Benny.

"I'll call Collins!" Mimi said, but stopped when she remembered that Collins was in Santa Fe. "I'll find a way!" she added quickly.

"Uh, guys… we only have one phone," Roger reminded.

The three paused. "I'll call everyone," Mark offered.

"I'll get the drinks," Maureen called.

"I'll make out with my man," Mimi laughed, grabbing Roger and pulling him to the couch.

"Roger! Collins wants to talk to you!" Mark called.

Roger pulled away from Mimi for a second and yelled, "I'm busy! Put him on speaker!"

"_Yo! Mr. and Mrs. Davis!" _Collins' deep voice echoed through the room.

"Hey man!" Roger called, grinning.

"Hey Col!" Mimi laughed.

"_Listen, sorry I'm not there for the big celebration. I promise to be down there in 1 week, okay?"_

"No problem, man," Roger answered.

"_Rog, you better take care of Meems or I'll personally throw you over a cliff, got it?"_

"You know I'd beat the crap out of you, Thomas," Roger beamed; he missed having these teasing sessions with Collins.

"_Har har. Hey Meems, don't think twice to kick his ass if he's hurting you, okay?"_

"Will do, daddy," Mimi said.

"_See you, bitches."_

(When Benny and Joanne arrive)

"Fuck you Benny, what are you doing here?" Roger teased good naturedly.

"Brought some stoli, that's what."

"Well then, welcome!"

Everyone was poured a glass and they all raised their cups.

"To Mimi and Roger!"

They banged their cups together.

"MIMI! YOU CAN'T DRINK!"

Mimi had, in her ignorant bliss, forgotten that it was forbidden for her to drink any alcoholic beverages. She spat her mouthful out immediately when Roger grabbed her arm. The liquid sprayed all over the yuppie scum.

"Shit," Benny mumbled.

Everyone tried to suppress laughter as Benny wiped himself with a napkin.

"Why can't Mimi drink?" Mark asked.

Roger and Mimi exchanged glances.

"Guys, don't kill us for not telling you, but…" Mimi's voice trailed off.

"Mimi's pregnant," Roger finished for her.

Everyone shrugged. Roger and Mimi gaped at them unbelievably. The expected a chorus of swears and "WHAT's?"

"Why isn't anybody screaming?" Mimi asked.

"Do you think were dumbasses, Meems?" Maureen cried incredulously.

"No but…"

"You've been a raging hormonal pregnant woman all month, we expected _something_," Joanne explained in her lawyer voice.

"Ah."

"Forgive us, we thought you guys a bunch of stupid oblivious jerks," Roger spat.

Everyone just laughed.

* * *

A/N: That was short because I thought it was enough. :) Did you think it was too short?

Poll: Rosario and Adam are the perfect Mimi and Roger.

a. DUH, why'd you even ask?

b. Yeah, they're pretty good.

c. They suck, broad way actors are better.

I'm A all the way baby! XD Review and I will love you more than grape jelly (which I love a lot) :) Collins fans! Thomas is coming up in the next chappie! Watch out for it:)


	10. Is This Really Goodbye, Love?

COLLINS IS BACK! Yay. XD

Someone will disappear though. O.o Not disappear like in a mysterious way, but be gone for quite a long time. :) Oh, we have oozing drama in this chap.

Mimi's hormones act up a lot in this chappie. LOL. Thank you thank you thank you for the reviews! BTW: This thing is only 15 chaps. :) Review this chapter and I will fall at your feet and proclaim you my master. LOL

Disclaimer: I fall at the feet of the great Jonathan Larson and chant: I am not worthy, I am not worthy! XD

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Alphabet City: December 15, 1992, 7 pm, Eastern Standard Time

Making his way from the subway to Avenue B on foot, Thomas Collins stopped to survey the old apartment building that had once been his home. He had missed it, and couldn't feel better to be back.

As always, he made his way to the old pay phone by the sidewalk, put in a quarter and dialed the loft's number. He was quite surprised when the machine didn't answer and when he heard barks erupting from the phone.

"Shhh! Gelly! Shut up! What's gotten into you?"

"Hello?" came a voice which Collins recognized immediately.

"Hey Meems," he smiled.

"COLLINS! SHIT!" Mimi screamed. "MARK, COLLINS IS HOME!"

"I've missed you too, Meems," Collins laughed. "Throw down the key will you?"

But Mimi was already on the fire escape, brandishing the key wildly in the air.

"COLLINS!" her shrill voice rang through the entire street.

"Thanks, Meems," Collins smiled, catching the key.

(At the loft)

"UGH!" Collins had the breath knocked out of him when Mimi came running into his arms.

"You've gained weight," Collins uttered to Mimi.

"I have a good excuse," Mimi snapped. (It's the hormones again)

"Oh?" Collins raised an eyebrow.

"Are you pregnant or something?" Collins joked.

Mimi gasped as if it couldn't be so. But then she broke out in laughter.

"Just like you, Thomas," she said.

"What? YOU'RE PREGNANT?" Collins fell to the floor.

"Shit," Collins muttered, grabbing his head.

"Yes, I am!" Mimi danced, waving her hands in the air.

"No kidding, Meems?"

"No, why would I joke about that?" (Me: singing _hormones!_)

"Are you sure?" Collins gaped.

"Uh no. DUH!" Mimi snapped. "I think I'd know if I was carrying something that weighs like a watermelon."

"Does everyone know but me?" Collins frowned.

"Yup, except Roger of course, 'cause he's not the father."

"MIMI!"

"Just kidding!" Mimi laughed.

Gelly came bounding up to Collins, wagging her tail insanely. She immediately began licking his shoes and barking madly.

"And who's this?" Collins asked, bending low and ruffling the puppy's hair.

Gelly licked at his face as if it were full of grape jelly.

"Gelly, my dog," Mimi said.

"Gelly?" Collins felt his heart sink.

"Yeah," Mimi frowned. "Sorry."

Collins laughed as Gelly licked his neck. "It's okay."

"She likes you, a lot," Mimi observed.

"Strange…"

"Why is that strange?"

"She hates Mark," Mimi shrugged.

"I heard that," the blonde came out of his room.

"Collins, man!" Mark walked up and gave Collins his welcome home hug.

"How's your love life?" Collins sneered, since he didn't know about Maureen.

"Really good actually," Mark sneered back.

"COLLY!" Maureen came out of Mark's bedroom and jumped in Collins' arms.

"Mo? What're you… Oh." Collins blushed; embarrassed that he'd thought Mark and loser with no girlfriend. The two boys did a guy handshake behind Maureen's back.

"Yo! My homecoming… let's celebrate at the Life!" Collins grinned. "Beers on me!"

"Urg," Mimi said.

"Oh right, sorry mommy!" Collins teased. "And cider too."

"No, it's alright, I'll stay home," Mimi said irritably.

"What? But…"

"Col, chill.. It's the hormones, let her stay," Mark whispered.

"Okay," Collins backed away from Mimi.

"Am I allowed to invite Jo and Ben?" Collins peered at Maureen.

"Yeah, Jo and I are okay," Maureen shrugged.

"Ben's welcome, Col, Rog is off at band gigs," Mark added.

"Great, I'll call them," Collins said, making his way to the phone.

"Meems? You sure you won't come?" Maureen asked, making her way to the couch where a pissed pregnant woman was fuming.

"I'll stay home, thanks Mo," Mimi simpered.

"Bye mommy!" Collins called, walking up to the loft door.

"If I get kidnapped while you're gone, it's your fault!" she called after them.

_Mark, Roger, Mimi and Maureen's loft: 10 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"I'm home!" Roger sang, unaware that the loft he came home to was empty.

"Meems? Baby?" Roger called, looking in the kitchen. (Obviously Mimi wasn't there since she can't cook for her life, remember?)

"Babe, I…"

Roger didn't find Mimi in the bedroom either. He began to worry again. Last time he came home to an empty loft, it wasn't a good sign.

_Mark and Maureen probably took her out with them, _Roger reassured himself, pouring a cup of coffee. _Her hormones hate it when she's left alone in the house._

"START SPREADING THE NEWS!"

"I'M LEAVING TODDAAAYYY!"

"I WANT TO BE A FART OF IT!"

"IT'S PART, DUMBASS."

"I WANT TO BE A PART OF IT!"

"NEW YORK NEW YORK!"

3 drunken people stumbled through the loft door, Collins still carrying a half empty beer bottle. Suddenly, the room smelled like dead fish. Roger stood up and searched for Mimi.

"ROGER, BABY!" Collins shouted, stumbling over his words.

"SING WITH US!" Maureen cried.

"THESE VAGABOND SHOES!" Mark cried, kicking off his own shoes and sliding on the floor.

"Guys, you're drunk," Roger said, coming forward and looking out the door for Mimi.

"Duh, you dumbfuck. Isn't that obvious?" Maureen snorted.

"Where's Mimi?"

"IF I CAN MAKE IT THERE!" Mark continued to sing.

"You skipped a whole lot of lines, Marky!" Maureen pouted, falling on top of Mark.

"GUYS! WHERE'S MIMI!"

"I'LL MAKE IT ANYWHERE!" Collins raised his hands in surrender and landed on the pile on the floor that was Maureen and Mark.

"YOU DUMBFUCKERS TELL ME WHERE MIMI IS NOW OR I'LL HANG YOU OVER THE FIRE ESCAPE, GOT IT?" Roger yelled.

"IT'S UP TO YOU! NEW YORK NEW YORK!"

"Ugh!" Roger had half a mind of hanging his friends outside the window.

He ran to the phone and started dialing 911 or something. He couldn't even think straight. It was then he saw a paper stuck to the answering machine.

Roger got even more nervous. Last time he saw a paper with a note in this apartment, nothing good came of it too. (Referring to April of course.) The note was in Mimi's handwriting, but was written in a rush, as one could tell from the scratchy edges.

_Roger,_

_My parents found me. I locked myself in the loft but I'll know they'll find a way in soon. They're bringing me back to L.A. I just know it. Don't follow, it'll make things worse. I promise I'm coming back no matter what it takes. Just wait for me, baby. I love you._

_M_

The scene swirled around in Roger's head, Mimi's parents bursting in, grabbing her and taking her away from him… Even before she could finish writing her name on the letter.

NO. No, NOT AGAIN! Why did everything he loved have to be taken away from him?

"FUCK YOU!" Roger screamed, knocking over chairs, tables and anything within his reach. Too drunk to act, his three friends watched on, laughing.

"GOD DAMMIT. WHY THE HELL? DO YOU HATE ME?" Roger slumped to the floor and cried.

He grabbed the last thing he loved, his own classical guitar, and banged it on the floor until it was just shards of wood and nothing less.

If Mimi was gone, then he simply just ceased to exist.

_Mark, Roger and Maureen's loft: December 24, 1992, 12 am, Eastern Standard Time_

"God dammit Rog! It's Christmas Eve! Come inside and celebrate with us!" Collins called from the window.

Though it was most probably less than zero degrees Celsius out there, Roger was sitting on the fire escape, apparently determined to freeze his ass off.

"Leave me alone, Thomas," Roger growled. They were the first words he'd spoken in days.

"Hey, Roger," Collins walked up to his friend. "Mimi promised she'd be back."

"And there is nothing we can do about it."

Roger remained silent.

"At least she's still alive, Angel's gone. She can't come back," Collins' voice shook.

"If you just know how much I wish she were here with us. You know she wouldn't want you acting like a son of a bitch like you are now."

Roger still didn't say anything, but Collins knew that he had hit one of the boy's weak spots.

"The most you can do is not ruin your life because if she comes back," he paused. "When she comes back, you're going to have a wedding and a baby. You need a lot of money for that, man."

"Take care of your life, Roger."

"Mimi was my life."

Roger sighed. "Leave me alone."

Collins walked away and turned around one last time.

"Merry Christmas," he said with a sad frown and closed the window door behind him. He had tried, and Roger was just too hard.

* * *

A/N: Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to Mimi. Let me tip you off: next chappie will be about 5 months later. (Yes, it takes that long for her to escape) :) I love it when Roger's depressed, I have no idea why. XD Maybe it's because he's so cute when he pouts. :)

Poll: When Mimi comes back, does the wedding or the baby come first:)


	11. I'll Be Your Shelter

This is mighty short. Just a coming back thing and more drama and fluff. I can't help it! XD

This one's got Roger acting depressed again, you'll see why. Again, I can't help it. XD

Aw man, without even knowing it, I put in two of my favorite lines in my favorite scene of one of my favorite movies: A Walk to Remember. No plagiarism! I switched the positions. LOL.

Review or else I'll appear under your bed one night and start singing Out Tonight in my horrible voice. And I'm sure you wouldn't want that. XD

Disclaimer: I love Jonathan Larson! (not in that way, ew)

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Mark, Roger, and Maureen's loft: June 11, 1993, 11 pm Eastern Standard Time

Unending focus on work, a planned band concert, countless sleepless nights and 6 months later…

Roger awoke with a start and, like he had many nights before, sat up shivering with sweat dripping all over his body. Nights he had were all filled with bad dreams and horrible perceptions of what could happen to Mimi. This night, however, he was suddenly roused by, not the bad ending to his dream, but by a loud persistent banging on the loft door.

"Who the fuck is that?" Mark cried angrily, pulling on a shirt.

Maureen was fuming behind him.

Roger opened the door and almost thought he was dreaming.

"MIMI!" he missed her name on his lips so much.

The Latina, who was drenched in sweat and had heavy eye bags under her eyes, flew into Roger's arms immediately. For a whole 5 minutes, they just stayed in that position, Mimi relieved to be in her lover's arms once more.

Roger kept on mumbling "Mimi" and "I thought I would die" and "I love you so much." He sounded like a broken tape recorder. And a broken robot, for that matter, who kept on kissing her and hugging her, and kissing her and hugging her.

Mark ran to the phone and dialed Collins. He was needed.

"Are your parents back there?" Roger suddenly asked, searching the hallway for any people. "I'm sorry, Mimi, but I'm just really going to have to kick their asses."

"No, no. I ran away," Mimi muttered weakly, kneading her hands in Roger's chest. "Again."

Then Maureen and Mark took turns hugging and crying over Mimi.

"Baby, what happened?" Roger wiped his tears and wiped off his fiancé's as well.

"It's horrible, Rog," Mimi sobbed into his shirt and Roger's arms around her just made her feel safe again.

"Shhh, you're here now with us. Everything's going to be okay," Roger assured.

"No, it's not. I haven't gotten the baby checked up on for months! ROGER!" she wailed.

Roger could think of nothing to say and Mark and Maureen just watched on helplessly.

"Tell me everything, baby. It will make you feel better."

So Mimi related her story to the four, Collins coming in after a while (in his pajamas, I may add). Her parents had tracked her down (obviously with all their money) and brought her back to L.A. They didn't know anything about the HIV, or the baby, so she couldn't get check ups and she didn't take her AZT for a long time now.

When Mimi tried to escape first, she didn't get away. And that's when they started locking her in her room and putting bars on all the windows and treating her like a prisoner. (I say: WHAT KIND OF PARENTS ARE THOSE? My conscience: Answer your own question, you made them that way. I say: Shut up.)

"I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't sleep," Mimi sobbed, her thin fragile body shaking. "I was killing myself and I knew it. I didn't have the will to live if you're not there…"

Roger tried to smile.

Then they found out about the baby sooner or later and forced Mimi to keep it quiet and get an abortion. Obviously, she couldn't do it.

So she ran away during the engagement party, when she had excused to go to the bathroom and climbed out the window.

"Is that why you're wearing this?"

Everyone looked at Mimi's long back dress.

"Yeah."

"Shit, how rich are your parents again?" Collins exclaimed.

"Shut your mouth, Thomas," Roger warned menacingly.

"Baby, how'd you get money for the flight? L.A.'s a long…"

"I stole my 'fiancé's' wallet," Mimi said, throwing the black plump cash holder on the table.

"Damn, you can really be a nasty crazy bitch when you want to, huh Meems?" Collins teased, attempting to get the Latina to smile.

Mimi laughed and it was sufficient for everyone. Roger eyed his soon-to-be wife. It was like her stomach had only grown about ¼ since he had last seen her – that wasn't a good sign.

"Meems, come and sleep. We'll go to the doctor's tomorrow, okay?" Roger smiled. (My conscience: Actually it's already tomorrow. I spit at you: They get what he means! GAR.)

No words could describe how happy he was that she was back.

Mimi nodded and walked off to the bedroom.

"Told you she'd come back," Collins punched Roger on the shoulder.

"I'm sure Angel helped her find her way," Roger smiled.

He gave Thomas a huge hug.

_Hospital Ultrasound Room: June 12, 1993, 3 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Baby's doing well considering the things you told me," the doctor punched keys on her ultrasound machine.

"Thank God," Mimi breathed, clasping Roger's hand tightly in hers.

Already, she looked better. God, why shouldn't she after eating that whole mound of breakfast? Roger was never a cook, but Collins came over early and helped him in making a feast which could've stuffed Garfield, the king of gluttony.

On the way to the hospital, Mimi had picked up two ice cream cones, three hotdogs and a waffle as well. Needless to say, zoom in on Roger's empty wallet.

"Though, there is a high chance of the baby having the HIV if you haven't been taking the medication for 6 months? Am I correct?" the doctor handed Roger the picture of the ultrasound.

"Yes," Mimi murmured, hanging her head.

Roger frowned sadly. Now it was possibly 100, shit. What the musician didn't want to hear was the check up on Mimi's AIDS, which they had underwent before the ultrasound process. He didn't want to hear that she might be dying.

"Ms. Marquez, I will get your HIV test results from the lab, I'll back in a couple of minutes," the doctor said in her strange Russian accent.

Mimi pulled on her bottoms and tugged at Roger's shirt playfully.

"You're so serious today," she sneered, trying to make a joke out of the grave situation.

Roger smiled in spite of himself – probably the first time he'd smiled in over half a year. "Shit, I've missed you."

Mimi grabbed him in a kiss and let her hands go under and up his shirt.

"Shit, I've missed this," she imitated him.

Roger frowned.

"What?" Mimi laughed.

"I've lost 6 months with you, do you know how long that is?"

"6 months? Let's see… half a year?" Mimi joked.

"It's not funny," Roger replied, his eyes misty.

"Lighten up!" Mimi said, pinching his side.

(I say: Oh crap, it's two lines from A Walk to Remember sobs)

Roger kept his head bent; not wanting to show her that he was weak. She was his only weakness, after all.

Mimi caressed the side of his face with her hand.

"Forget regret, Roger, or life is yours to miss."

"Here it is!" the doctor said, barging in on what would've been a cute scene.

She handed Mimi and envelope and waited impatiently for her to open it. Mimi glanced nervously at Roger. She wished the doctor would just vanish.

"Well?" the doctor urged.

_What a nosy bitch, _Mimi thought.

"Can you leave us alone for a while?" Roger asked.

_I love you! _Mimi telepathically told Roger.

The doctor put on a disconcerted look but left the room nevertheless.

"Meems, it's been 5 minutes since you had that," Roger said, but he himself didn't want her to open it.

"I can't do it Roger," she thrust the paper in his hands. "You do it."

Roger gave Mimi a "you're crazy" look. But she seemed so desperate that he gave in. Mimi watched Roger's trembling fingers remove a paper from the envelope and unfold it.

His expression was blank.

Without warning, he ripped the paper in shreds, before Mimi could see any word of it. He crumpled up the pieces and threw it out the window.

"Roger! Are you crazy! What did it say?" Mimi cried.

"Nothing," Roger blurted out in a rush. "You're fine!"

Roger forced himself to believe that the test results were wrong. They had to be. Mimi couldn't be sick! She's young, beautiful and perfect! Roger started to sweat profusely.

"Are you sure?" Mimi raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you're fine," Roger muttered, feeling his tears welling up.

"I know you're lying, Rog. Tell me the truth," Mimi said, grasping Roger's wrists.

Roger broke down and fell to the floor. On his knees, he sobbed and begged.

"You don't need to know, Mimi. It's a lie. They're all lies! You're perfect," he rambled.

"Roger! What did it say?" Mimi demanded, her tears were falling. "What stage am I in?"

When Roger didn't answer Mimi said, "I know there are lots of stages… the fourth is the last."

Roger cried and cried and through sobs gave in. "Clinical Stage Number Three."

* * *

A/N: Poor Mimi. What evil parents. Don't kill me for letting Roger be all soft! XD As said up there: Mimi is his ONLY weakness. :D

Poll: Mimi's parents in this story are devils.

a. most obviously, dear.

b. You said it, chica!

c. Que? NO!


	12. I'd Die Without You

Hola! LOL. This Spanish is getting to me.

Review and I'll buy you a puppy like Gelly. XD

Disclaimer: Like every other rent head says, Jonathan Larson is the only one who can claim to own Rent. And, his other musical called Tick Tick Boom (which is like an autobiography of his life according to Kots) :)

I SWEAR TO FIND A CURE TO AIDS! XD

* * *

"I want to get married right now," Mimi said.

Those were the first words she'd spoken since she ran out of the hospital room.

"Okay," Roger shrugged.

Also his first words – I mean, forgive me - word.

Mimi laughed a forced outburst. She had half a mind to rush everything she wanted to do in life – bungee jump, pilot a helicopter, watch Yankee game… She was actually beginning to accept that this might be her last year on earth.

Roger was the one having troubles accepting things.

"Before I die…"

"MIMI."

"I want to watch a Yankee game."

"You hate baseball and any sport for that matter."

"Exactly why I want to watch a game!" Mimi said. "I don't want to die…"

"MIMI."

"Sooner or later we'll all die, Roger!"

"You don't have to mention it!" Roger cried incredulously.

"But…"

Roger pulled her to him in a kiss.

"I can't take it, Mimi, don't say anything about it anymore," he said.

"Okay," Mimi smiled.

Roger sighed before disclosing, "If you die, I die."

She nodded but didn't say a word like she promised.

"Forget regret, Roger, or life is yours to miss," she said again.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

They walked hand in hand in silence.

"Rog! Look!" Mimi pointed her finger at the Ryder Community Center, where Life Support meetings took place.

"Mimi, don't try to drag me there again," Roger muttered, pulling her away.

"No! Rog!" Mimi pulled him closer to the doorway of the center.

"Read," she ordered, flicking a paper that was posted on the door with a finger.

_Ryder Community Center_

_Now offering Sunday masses and other religious ceremonies_

_Call Benny Coffin: 977-28-22_

"Benny?" Roger raised an eyebrow at the paper.

"Then it's easier! Come on, Roggy… let's get married here," Mimi batted her eyelashes.

"Do you really want to get married in a place that reminds you of…" Roger's stopped.

"Yes."

"Then it's settled," Roger grinned.

"Did I hear right?"

The couple turned around only to face Benjamin Coffin the Third.

"You two are getting married, how joyous," Benny said, coming up the steps.

"Try and act happy, scum," Roger snapped, putting his arm around Mimi defensively.

"Whoa," Benny put his hands up. "I am."

"Remind me to give Collins my 50 bucks," he sneered.

"What? You bet on us?" Roger stepped forward threateningly.

"Yes we did, and it looks like I just lost," Benny laughed good naturedly.

"Fantastic," Roger mumbled.

"So are you booking the place?" Benny asked, talking more to Mimi.

"YES," Mimi over enthusiastically said.

"Sunday."

"This Sunday?" Roger cried in surprise.

"Yes."

"Mimi! You're crazy! You hear your HIV status and you go pressing the fast forward button on your life!" Roger yelled.

"Whatever happened to 'I don't want to fight with you ever again?' Hmmm?" Mimi said.

Roger shut up instantly, embarrassed.

"This Sunday then, it's settled," Benny grinned.

"Why are you affiliated with this anyway, huh Coffin?" Roger asked.

"I felt like a little charity work," Benny shrugged.

"To rid your guilt," Roger mumbled.

"And that too."

_Mark, Roger, Mimi and Maureen's loft: June 19, 1993, 8 am, Eastern Standard Time_

"I'm getting married today!"

"I'm getting MARRIED _today!_"

"I AM GETTING MARRIED TODAY!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake Mimi! The whole world knows already! Now shut up and let me sleep!" Roger fumed, turning on the bed.

Mimi pouted and folded her arms across her chest.

Mark suddenly burst inside the room holding a broomstick in his hands. His glasses were off and he was blinking madly.

"Get out of the loft or I'll shoot!" he warned, not knowing that he was holding a broomstick and not a rifle.

Mimi laughed in a fit and fell to the floor.

"Wha…?"

It suddenly dawned on Mark what was happening. He shut the door with a loud bang whilst swearing.

"Women, can't live with them!"

"Can't live without them," Mimi completed.

Mimi danced around the room still singing "I'm getting married todayyy!" Roger flung a pillow in her direction and it hit her on the face.

She started to dramatize. "Oh! The pain!" she acted, bringing her hand up to her head and pretending to fall on the floor.

Roger got up, yelled "OH MY GOD!" and ran up to her.

"I got you up!" Mimi said with a grin as Roger pulled her up.

Roger laughed and kissed Mimi saying, "I'm getting married today."

"Damn right you are."

A few hours later Roger and Mimi parted rooms. Roger went into Mark's and shut the door with a mouthed "I love you" to his wife to be.

"Zoom in on Roger Davis, who's about to commit to one woman and have no one else but her for his entire life," Mark said holding his camera up, pointing directly at Roger. "Hear that? NO ONE ELSE BUT HER."

Roger walked over to Mark still smiling and hit him hard on the back. "Not even you can spoil this day for me." Roger said walking over to his closet.

(Roger's room)

Maureen and Mimi were doing each other's make up in the other room.

"Is this okay? I mean, it's just a white top and a white skirt, it was all I could afford," Mimi fretted, curling her hair even more with a curling iron.

"Mimi, shut up. You look gorgeous," Maureen scolded, applying some mascara.

Maureen sighed and put down her beautification tools.

"As always, this is as good as it's gonna get," she said sadly, looking at herself in the mirror.

Mimi laughed.

(Mark's Room)

Roger brought down a large dusty box from Mark's top drawer.

"You're using that?" Mark lowered his camera.

"I want to be beautiful," Roger kidded, grinning foolishly.

"Maureen has some make up in that drawer," Mark pointed. "I think you'll need it if you want to be _beautiful._" Mark mocked.

Roger eyed Mark.

"Does Mo got mascara in there too?"

Mark let out a breath and slammed the door as he marched out.

Roger laughed triumphantly and focused his attention on the box. He slowly lifted out an elegant black tuxedo, the same outfit he had used when he was supposedly going to propose to April. Without a backward glance at that sad night of his life, he pulled the garments on and sprayed some of Mark's perfume.

He attempted to comb his unruly hair.

"You look pretty good for a man of 28, Mr. Davis," Roger complimented himself, doing a machismo pose in the mirror.

"Quit talking to yourself, Roger. It's my turn to change," Mark mumbled, storming in the room.

"Do you want some mascara?" Roger batted his eyelashes.

"Shut up."

(Roger's Room)

"Just PICK ONE COLOR, MO!"

"Okay, dark pink."

Mimi began to unscrew the top of the lipstick.

"No wait! I want the red instead."

"NO! The magenta!"

"OH! The light pink!"

"MO! You're driving me nuts!"

"I can't pick! They're all so bee-oot-ty-ful!"

Suddenly, Joanne barged inside the room in her elegant skirt and fancy top. She was brandishing a lipstick wildly in the air.

"I've come to your rescue, Meems," Joanne cried, tossing Maureen the lipstick.

"OH THAT'S PERFECT!" Maureen exclaimed, viciously spreading the glittery color on her lips.

"Thank you," Mimi breathed to Joanne, giving her a hug.

"I know all about her _routines_," Joanne mumbled, smiling and hugging Mimi back.

"Look who's looking hott," Mark suddenly appeared at the door.

"I hope you mean me," Maureen sang, hopping up to kiss Mark.

"Of course I mean you."

Joanne and Mimi snorted.

"We'll go ahead, Meems," Mark appeared at the door in a clean cut suit.

"Bride and groom need time alone with themselves," Collins smiled, popping up beside Mark.

"Okay," Mimi grinned and waved the others off.

"I CHANGED MY MIND! I LIKE THE DARK PINK!" Maureen yelled, as she was being dragged out of the loft by Joanne.

"Let's go, Mo," Joanne ordered sharply.

Mimi laughed to herself and left the mirror. After all, she didn't mind how she looked. All she was looking forward to was saying "I do's" and being with Roger forever. She walked over to the window and gazed at the cars passing by below.

Suddenly, she felt someone wrap their arms around her waist and kiss her cheek.

"It's bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding, pretty boy," she laughed, spinning around to face Roger.

"I can't stay away from you."

He looked into her eyes. Such beautiful brown eyes.

"_Your eyes," _Roger started to sing.

"We'll keep everybody waiting, Roger," Mimi closed her eyes, liking the way he sang the words into her ear.

He swayed her side to side, his arms around her waist while singing his song for her. Then he kissed her neck all the way up to her lips.

"Roger," Mimi said between laughs. "My make up will get…"

"We're getting married today," Roger interrupted her, whispering tenderly in her ear.

"Yes, and we will be unfashionably late."

"I'm sure they won't mind."

_Ryder Community Center: 2 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"WHERE WERE YOU?"

"Sorry daddy," Roger laughed, taking off his coat and revealing his tuxedo.

"That doesn't answer my question," Collins snapped.

"Mimi had to put on more make up!" Roger lied, walking up to the priest.

"Father," he greeted politely, shaking the reverend's hand.

"Mr. Davis," the priest smiled. "Finally, I might add."

"My apologies."

"Forgiven. Where is the lovely bride?" the priest asked.

"Outside, with the rest of the 'bridal entourage,'" Roger laughed.

The priest raised a brow. "Is there really an entourage?"

"Yes. It's made up of the bride and her flowers," Roger grinned.

"Very well, shall we begin?"

"Please."

Everyone took their places on their seats, making the most of the special occasion in Mimi and Roger's lives. They were all grinning broadly as the organist played the bridal song. Roger's glowing ace waited for his love at the end of the aisle.

Few minutes passed, Roger got impatient. More minutes passed, everyone else got impatient and Roger began to get worried.

They heard a loud bang from outside.

"SHIT!"

Everyone looked and walked around, confused, especially Roger.

They all ran outside, Roger pushed his way through and looked around.

"Mimi! Mimi!" he yelled, looking for his bride.

Tears started clouding up his eyes as he uttered her name over and over.

"Yeah! Roger, what is it?" Mimi said walking out from the corner.

"Mimi!" Roger said, hugging and kissing Mimi.

"Damn, Marquez, where were you?" Collins muttered a look of concern in his eyes.

"I was peeing," Mimi said, puzzled.

"What were you thinking!" Maureen said, her lips shining brightly.

"I was thinking I needed to pee!" Mimi uttered trying to explain that she was in fact peeing. "This child does not wait for anyone and I didn't want to get the skirt stained!"

"I thought you…" Roger started.

"What was that bang we all heard?"

"Guy on a bicycle crashed into a trash can," Mimi pointed to a poor man, rubbing his head and picking up his tattered bike.

Roger slapped his head. "I thought you… Nevermind."

"Thought I what?" Mimi blinked.

"It doesn't matter!" Roger whispered in Mimi's ear.

"Ok, let's get this wedding over with!" Mark said sarcastically.

(Finally, the wedding!)

Mark picked up his camera and started filming EVERYTHING.

"Do you Roger Davis take Mimi Marquez to be your lawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health 'till death do you part?"

"I do." Roger said, without a doubt.

"And do you Mimi Marquez take Roger Davis as your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health 'till death do you part?"

Mimi couldn't breath, she was speechless, but looking at Roger's eyes, she found courage to speak.

"I do" she said. Smiling from ear to ear.

They even forgot the rings and just kissed in happiness.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to Zorabet and mi hermana Camille, I wrote the wedding part. XD Hope you like it enough to review (ehem ehem) XD 


	13. In Funerals, In Births

Count down begins for the ending of this story. XD

3.

I actually finished this days ago. I just want to prolong it for you guys. Anyway, my school starts in a week. (shiver) new schools are always scary.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rent… doesn't that suck?

_

* * *

_

Hospital Check Up Room: July 26, 1993, 4:30 pm, Eastern Standard Time

"I'm one week late," Mimi huffed angrily.

"Yes, you are. It happens," the doctor shrugged.

"So you mean to tell me that I might have to go on for a longer time carrying this watermelon?" Mimi said through gritted teeth.

"Easy, baby, easy," Roger coaxed, his hand on Mimi's shoulder.

"Can it, Davis. You don't weigh like an elephant," Mimi snapped.

Roger gave her a look.

"Can't you do anything about this? I want my normal sane wife back," Roger turned his angry gaze at the doctor.

"POKE AROUND IN THERE! PULL IT OUT! DO _SOMETHING!"_

"Number one: We do not _poke. _Number two: I can't do anything," the doctor said sarcastically.

"Fucking ass doctors," Roger mumbled to Mimi.

"I love you," Mimi whispered back, as if Roger had said exactly what was on her mind.

"You, however, can try some of these techniques," the doctor handed Roger a leaflet.

"Fine."

"Let us do the work," Mimi muttered to herself.

"Let's go, Meems."

"Uh, Roger?"

"Yeah babe?"

"You have to help me get out of this chair."

"Let's see, eat spicy foods or pineapple," Roger read, as they walked down the street.

"We should stop by the grocery store," Mimi suggested.

Roger kissed the top of her head. "That's my smart wife."

"Second, go for a walk or march up some stairs."

Mimi burst out laughing. "I've been doing that all month."

"Just goes to show those dumbass doctors."

"Complimentary therapies like herbs, teas, acupuncture," Roger paused and arched his eyebrows.

"Massage?"

Mimi laughed.

"We can arrange that," Roger grinned seductively.

"We'll talk about that later," Mimi flipped. "Read on, pretty boy."

Roger raised an eyebrow at the leaflet but kissed it, as if thanking it.

"What the fuck? Roger, don't fall in love with the paper. You don't know what the doctor touched before he handed you that," Mimi scrunched her face up.

"Read it, Meems," Roger thrust the paper in his wife's face and rubbed his hands together.

Mimi's face was smug. "Nipple stimulation?"

"Keep reading."

"And sex."

"Yup," Roger declared proudly.

"That's impossible with this big belly," Mimi argued.

"Awww, come on baby. I waited 9 whole months!" Roger whined.

"Fine, but only because I want this baby out of me!" Mimi cried.

"Score!" Roger yelled.

_Mark, Roger, Mimi and Maureen's loft: 7 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"I can't eat another bite..." Mimi groaned.

"Well that's new," Mark remarked from the kitchen.

"Shut the fuck up, Cohen."

"Come on baby," Roger put a large red pepper in Mimi's face. "Finish this last one."

"No, Rog!" Mimi slapped the pepper from Roger's hand. "I've been eating spicy foods and pineapples nonstop since 5 pm!"

"And I've been massaging every part of your body since then too!" Maureen complained, working on Mimi's feet.

"And I've walked up and down those fucking stairs for a least a thousand times."

Roger sucked on a pineapple piece. "Drink the herbal tea."

Mimi tried some and spit it out. "This tastes like shit!"

"It's helping you get your baby out."

"Well it's not working! I should've been screaming my lungs out and pushing right now," Mimi fumed.

"There's still one last thing on the list we haven't tried," Roger sang.

"Oh please, let's do it now," Mimi begged.

"Oh, I don't know. There's no moment," Roger annoyed Mimi.

"Shit Davis! Just do it!" Mimi demanded in a low threatening voice.

Maureen and Mark backed away into their room silently.

"Nah, I don't feel like it," Roger stretched out on the couch.

Mimi started crying.

"Awww, Meems… don't," Roger sighed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her head. "Let's do it, okay?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," Roger smiled.

He started to kiss her run his fingers up her shirt.

Mimi laughed a little as Roger gave her his own version of nipple stimulation.

"Oh my God," Mimi pulled her lips away from Roger.

"What's wrong baby?" Roger cooed, scattering kisses on Mimi's stomach.

"Water…"

"You need water? Okay, I'll get you a glass."

"NO! Roger… my water broke!"

"Doesn't that mean…?"

"YES."

"Holy shit!"

Roger began running around in circles, not knowing how to act and swearing the whole time. Mimi started her Lamaze breathing.

"Damn, I AM GOOD," it suddenly dawned on Roger.

"ROGER!"

"Oh, shit, yeah!"

Roger carried Mimi to the loft door.

"Maureen! Mark! HELP!"

The two came rushing out of their bedroom quickly.

"Baby's coming!" Roger screamed.

"Oh, SHIT!" they both said at the same time.

And the four of them rushed to the hospital.

_Hospital Waiting Room: 8 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

"MARK, SHUT THE FUCK UP," Roger bellowed.

(A/N: OMG, Law and Order is showing! XD Jesse! Whee!)

"Hey bitches, how's mommy?"

Collins ran up, panting. Joanne was right behind him.

"She went in about 15 minutes ago," Roger reported.

Collins grinned and wrapped Roger in a tight hug.

"Look who's going to be a daddy."

"And look at all the godfathers and godmothers," Roger beamed.

"You serious, man?"

"Shit, yeah!" Roger laughed.

_Still in the hospital waiting room: 5 am, Eastern Standard Time_

Roger paced the floor while the others slept.

_What the fuck was taking so long?_

Collins yawned and opened his eyes.

"Man, haven't you slept yet?"

Roger shook his head.

"Come here and get some Z's. I'll take over the pacing," Collins offered.

"Ha-ha. No thanks, Col," Roger smiled a feeble simper.

"Hey man, I've heard of labors that last more than 20 hours. Don't wear yourself out."

"Will do."

A cough came from the door as the doctor stepped out, removing his blood stained gloves. His face was grim and Roger wasn't comforted by that fact.

"Mr. Davis?" he approached Roger.

"Yeah?" Roger's voice cracked.

"Congratulations, you're the father of a beautiful baby girl."

Roger was speechless. He followed the doctor inside the delivery room.

"Roger," Mimi smiled weakly.

"Baby, oh, Mimi," Roger ran up to the bed and kissed Mimi so passionately.

Mimi was holding a small infant in her arms wrapped in a swaddling pink blanket. She had the most beautiful rosy cheeks and the 2nd most beautiful brown eyes Roger had ever seen (referring to Mimi's).

"Oh, crap you're so tiny and beautiful," Roger cooed, as Mimi handed him his daughter.

He couldn't stop staring at her the whole time.

"Who do you think she looks like?" Mimi breathed, smiling despite herself.

"She's beautiful, Mimi. It's all you," Roger smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Do we have a name?" the doctor asked, smiling as well.

"Clarissa."

"Angelique."

Mimi and Roger laughed.

"Clarissa Angelique Marquez Davis. I love it," Roger said.

"How about…?"

Roger stopped when he saw Mimi's eyes closed.

"She's tired," the doctor said, motioning to some nurses. "We should let her sleep."

The nurses rolled Mimi's bed out the door and Roger held their baby girl in his arms. She was also sleeping soundly, and Roger couldn't push away the fact that she looked so much like Mimi – especially with her lone tuft of curly brown hair.

"Say bye to mommy, Clarissa Angelique," he whispered.

* * *

I always liked the nickname Crissa. (shrug) You get why she's named Angelique, right :) I don't want to make a poll anymore. Review if you want to. XD 


	14. People Die, Love Doesn't

2.

I will one day have a baby girl named Clarissa Angelique. :)

Disclaimer: ALL HAIL JONATHAN LARSON! XD

* * *

"She looks like Mimi, thank God."

Roger punched Mark on the shoulder.

"Just kidding!" Mark laughed, raising his hands.

Roger laughed. "I said the same thing, Mark."

"I'm going to spoil you so much," Maureen cooed, in a voice that was reserved only for babies, and Joanne.

"And I won't allow it," Joanne added, rubbing the baby's head.

"You got a name for her, man?" Collins asked, his face twisted into one of his foolish grins.

"Clarissa Angelique," Roger beamed.

Collins understood the significance of the name and put a hand on Roger's shoulder happily. His eyes were glistening very dangerously.

"What nickname?"

Roger shrugged. "I haven't really thought of it yet."

"Maybe Crissa, Clar, Angie or Geli – but with an I."

"Wow, you really didn't put much thought in that," Joanne said sarcastically.

"A dog named Gelly and now a baby girl named Geli," Collins laughed.

The rest looked at each other with uh-oh looks. But Collins was just happy, and no sadness could be seen in his face.

"We have to take her now, Mr. Davis," a nurse broke the moment.

Roger nodded and everyone said: Awww.

"I love you," Roger whispered to his daughter, before handing her to the nurse.

They all watched her bring Clarissa Angelique inside the nursery. Roger wiped away his brimming tears and sighed in relief.

"I'm never going to regret that I didn't use a condom," he said.

The others laughed.

"Mr. Davis? Can I have a word?" the doctor broke through.

"Sure."

Away from the rejoicing godfathers and godmothers, the doctor led Roger to the front of the room which Mimi was staying in. Roger knew it couldn't be good, whenever doctors dragged you aside to talk, it was never good news.

"You have to be back in one month to know if Clarissa has the HIV," the doctor informed, handing Roger a paper with instructions.

"But you also need to come by weekly so we can monitor her and give her the necessary medications to help prevent it as much as possible."

Roger just nodded.

"How's my wife?" he asked uncertainly, knowing that part of this conversation was going to be about Mimi's HIV status.

"We did a check up on her," the doctor began. "We wanted to know if she'd…"

"Gotten worse," Roger finished for him.

The doctor nodded.

"And?"

"Well…"

"Tell me."

"Well she's… okay, considering that she's just undergone a very long labor."

Roger was getting impatient. He grabbed the doctor by the collar of his white gown. "Give me the not so good news which you're obviously putting off."

"She's uh…"

"Spit it out!" Roger yelled.

The doctor pulled away from the angry father and wiped his glasses.

"Well?" Roger growled menacingly.

"Stage four."

Roger's expression immediately changed. "Isn't that…"

He gulped, trying to swallow back some tears. "The last stage?"

"One would call it that… yes," the doctor chose his words carefully.

"But she was so healthy… she's…"

"I think she hasn't been telling you, Mr. Davis," the doctor sighed.

"The obvious signs are there… abrupt loss of weight, diarrhea, pneumonia…"

"Mimi has pneumonia?" Roger's eyes pierced through the doctor's very soul.

"Yes, for a couple of weeks now and diarrhea too."

Roger slapped his head in frustration. He had been so oblivious to the signs! It was Mimi who kept on coughing and shaking it off like it was just dust at the loft. It was Mimi who'd taken so long in the bathroom and who used up all the Lysol cans.

"Tests show signs of early tuberculosis also, Mr. Davis. I'm terribly sorry," the doctor apologized sadly.

"Can't you do anything?"

"Were trying our best. There's just not much you can do for her at this stage," the doctor showed mild sympathy.

He tried to shut his mouth when he was about to say that all HIV positive patients are led to an untimely death.

"Is she going to die?" Roger asked bitterly, letting his tears slide down.

The doctor didn't answer and Roger didn't let him. He walked inside his wife's room and shut the door softly behind him. Mimi was lying there, looking so peaceful. How could an angel like her die at this time? She was so young…

"Hey Roggy," Mimi smiled.

"Hey," Roger wiped away his tears and sat down on Mimi's bed.

"So what'd he tell you?" Mimi's eyes closed every now and then.

"Who?" Roger lied.

"The doctor silly," Mimi laughed meekly.

"He said that you were very strong in the delivery room," Roger lied again.

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, if you think I shouldn't know, then I trust you with that decision," Mimi shrugged.

Roger suddenly got angry. "How can you accept that you might die soon?"

"HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME AND OUR DAUGHTER ALONE?"

Mimi shook her head and laid her hand on Roger's to calm him.

"I won't."

"You can't promise that, Mimi!" Roger whined.

"And no matter what I do, I'm going to die soon too!" Roger wept. "We'll leave Clarissa Angelique all ALONE."

"Roger, do you honestly still believe that when one dies, one leaves forever?" Mimi laughed a little at Roger's cluelessness.

"People die, love doesn't."

Roger sobbed into Mimi's blanket. She ran her fingers through his blonde locks.

"_Forget, regret, or life is yours to miss." _Mimi sang.

"I love you, and I will never die because of that," Mimi said, lifting Roger's face.

"I love you too, baby."

They kissed and Mimi went back to sleep.

* * *

I know that was senti, you don't have to nag at me and call me a blockhead for making it all drama-y. But please, if you want to, call me anything you want… just not pookie. XD

Poll: a good nickname for me would be:

a. Sad slob who lives through her fantasies

b. Pookie

c. A blockhead

I think I'd like to call myself a blockhead. XD I love Charlie Brown and he's a blockhead. (shrug) Oh no, last chappie is coming! Huhuhu. :(


	15. There Is No Future, There Is No Past

And 1.

I've been fretting for an ending to this thing for weeks. It wasn't until someone told me that not all endings are happy, that I knew what I wanted to do.

It made me snap out of my world that was full of fairytales with "happily ever afters" and face reality.

So here's the last chapter, a product of my maturity. Hope you won't hate me after it, well at least I stayed true to myself. :) The song is one of my favorites… No Goodbyes by Blue. I don't own it.

Disclaimer: I love rent, but do not own it.

Enjoy.

_

* * *

_

Mimi's Hospital Room: August 1, 1993, 8 am, Eastern Standard Time

"Roger…"

_**Don't you know, it's time for me to go**_

_**Even though, it hurts to see you cry**_

The musician looked up and found Mark standing by the door.

_**But don't you know, you'll never be alone**_

_**If you hold me deep inside**_

"What're you doing here?" he asked, looking back at Mimi.

_**You know that I would rather stay**_

_**But now before I turn away**_

"Your manager keeps calling the loft. He's getting fucking annoying," Mark said, coming inside.

_**There's one last thing to you I want to say**_

"He claims you have a concert tonight, why didn't you tell us?"

_**Baby there's no goodbyes**_

_**I'll always be right by your side**_

"I forgot," Roger lied.

_**I may be far away**_

_**But you know that my heart will stay with you always**_

"Well are you going?" Mark eyed his best friend with pitying eyes.

_**Now I've pictures in the distance**_

_**Even though it seems a million miles**_

Roger shook his head and just focused on Mimi.

_**But there'll be no more space between us**_

_**I'll be there every time you close your eyes**_

"You haven't left this room in 5 days. Have you even gone to see Clarissa once?" Mark asked.

_**You know that I would rather stay**_

_**But now before I turn away**_

Roger shook his head again.

_**There's one last thing to you I want to say**_

"Doctor said I could bring her home today," Roger muttered absentmindedly. "Can you and Mo take care of her while I'm here with Mimi?"

_**Baby there's no goodbyes**_

_**I'll always be right by your side**_

"Sure," Mark shrugged. "When's Mimi coming home?"

_**I may be far away**_

_**But you know that my heart will stay with you always**_

"Not soon I think," Roger sighed.

_**I don't wanna say the words that people say**_

Mark shook his head as well and sighed deeply.

_**Coz when I go away, my love will stay**_

"Go to the concert."

"No."

"This is your big break."

"No."

"You'll lose your job."

"I don't care."

"It's a huge concert!"

"Again, I don't care."

"Go, Roger," Mimi's voice came from the bed.

_**In the heart of you, to help you make it through**_

"Meems, you're awake," Roger stroked her arm up and down lovingly.

_**Baby that is why, there can be no**_

"Go to your concert, Roger," her voice was weak but determined.

"I don't want to leave you here," Roger argued defiantly.

"Go."

"What if something…"

"Do it for me?" Mimi tried to smile.

Roger sighed. "Okay, for you."

_**No Goodbyes**_

"Meems, I'm bringing you home tomorrow. I know you're going to get better," Roger assured himself.

_**Baby there's no goodbyes**_

Mimi shook her head and laughed. "Do as you wish, Mr. Davis."

_**I'll always be right by your side**_

"You don't know how much I love you."

_**I may be far away**_

"I do."

He kissed her and stood up.

_**But you know that my heart will stay**_

"Mark, watch her like a hawk or I will twist your body until you're a pretzel, got it?"

"Got it," Mark said in a squeaky voice.

Roger opened the door.

"Rog…"

He spun around and looked at his wife.

_**With you**_

"_You _don't know how much I love _you._"

_**Always.**_

"Trust me, I do," Roger smiled.

(Roger's POV)

_Time's Square: 8 pm, Eastern Standard Time_

The crowd's cheers were deafening when we stepped on stage. All our hearts were pounding way past the normal rate, since it was our very first major concert in 3 years. But I knew I was the most nervous. Something was wrong, and I could feel it.

I hadn't told anyone yet, but I had decided that this first concert of ours was also going to be my last. I had a daughter to take care of now.

"YO PEEPZ!" Theo, the bass guitarist yelled through the mic.

"Sup?" I said lamely.

But still, my remark emitted out a wave of shouts from the audience. I raised a hand in the air to acknowledge all of them.

"Uh…" I grabbed the scruff of my shirt.

"This first song is something I wrote three years ago and uh, yeah…"

Screams again.

I gulped. My throat was dry and I had another moment of fright – all chords, words and notes were wiped clean from my brain. And the worst of it was, there was no one there to make me forget my nervousness – she wasn't there.

"Yo, Roger! Start!" my band mates called from behind me.

I turned around to leave, but a voice stopped me.

_Roger_! At first it was faint.

_Roger! _Louder this time.

I spun around and searched the audience, wanting to believe that she was there. But I could find no Mimi.

_Roger!_

My eyes met the bright yellow spotlight, against the black starlit sky. It was blinding, but I managed to see a silhouette beyond the light. There was no mistaking that figure, it had the same brown eyes that I knew and loved so much.

Then I knew that she was gone.

But Mimi was smiling at me from behind the spotlight. I smiled back, though tears were falling. Then I found the courage that she had always given me.

"Mimi, I know you're listening from up there. I love you."

_Your eyes  
As we said our goodbyes  
Can't get them out of my mind  
And I find I can't hide  
From your eyes  
The ones that took me by surprise  
The night you came into my life  
Where there's moonlight I see your eyes  
How'd I let you slip away  
When I'm longing so to hold you  
Now I'd die for one more day  
'Cause there's something  
I should have told you  
Yes there's something  
I should have told you  
When I looked into your eyes  
Why does distance make us wise?  
You were the song all along  
And before this song dies  
I should tell you I should tell you  
I have always loved you  
You can see it in my eyes_

At the end of the song, the crowd went wild, but I refused to hear them. My tearing eyes were only trained on Mimi. I watched her glide over to me, a faint breeze that kissed my cheek. Back at the spotlight, she mouthed the words "I love you" and with one wave, disappeared.

_**You know what? No more goodbyes.**_

Sure enough, that night, Mimi went, bringing with her my love and her hopes to reach a better place.

Though I sorely miss her, I know that we will soon be reunited in a place where there is no more pain, where it will be just the two of us.

Mimi taught me how to live – by love and for love. A love that's everlasting, which will never die. Like the love she gave me.

And so, I continue to fight for her. I live my life for her.

_**Forget regret, Roger, or life is yours to miss.**_

FIN

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A/N: Thanks for reading. :) 


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